Evil Dead: Dead of Night
by Broken Blade
Summary: Shattered by heartbreak and addiction, a young woman heads to a remote cabin to heal with her friends. An ancient and terrifying evil rises to torment them, but one of them carries a deadly secret as old and powerful as the demons in the woods. It becomes a desperate fight for survival and for two hearts in pain to hold onto each other in the dead of night. Based on the 2013 film.
1. Chapter 1

EVIL DEAD: DEAD OF NIGHT

Chapter 1

There are dark places in the world. Small, shadowy crevices and monstrous hollow caverns, all hidden away from sight—in the mountains, in the forests, in deserts and cities, and there are places full of darkness within each of us, lurking in our hearts and minds, waiting to swallow us forever into their hideous depths.

"Mia. Mia, we're here, sweetie."

The small, auburn haired girl had fallen into one of those dark places, and was on the verge of being lost forever in an eternity of lightless oblivion. So deep had her desperation become, before being carried off into sleep by the steady rumble of the Jeep's engine, she faintly caressed the morbid hope that maybe this time…she wouldn't wake up.

For a moment, she thought the voice that roused her belonged to her mother. Even as the impossibility of that thought dawned upon her, she still imagined opening her eyes to a picture out of the past, when her family was still complete and she wasn't a useless piece of junkie trash.

"Come on, Mia, wake up," Olivia prodded again, shaking her pale friend from slumber. "You should eat something. You've been out all morning."

It broke Olivia's heart to see her once best friend in such an awful state. The girl's skin was so white it was nearly translucent, and her eyes looked tired and yellow all the time. She had easily lost twenty pounds from her already petite frame, making her look as though even a slight wind could topple her.

"I'm not hungry," Mia answered, fumbling for the door handle and stepping out. Her friend Eric was already standing in front of the Jeep, stretching off the tension of the ride and scratching his scruffy blonde beard.

"Well," he said, "this is…nice."

He was as full of shit as ever. It had actually been a while since she had seen either one of her friends before they managed to track her down and force another awkward intervention. While his appearance might have changed with the growth of his long hair, he was still the same old geek she had always known.

As if seeing it for the first time, Mia gazed around the clearing. Grey clouds blotted out the sun overhead, making the surrounding woods feel closer, somehow more sinister. A sense of vertigo hit her momentarily. The world spun and it looked as if the tips of the trees were about to topple down around her. She exuded an almost conscious effort not to look at the cabin, but her gaze inevitably drifted toward its worn wooden face.

The windows on either side of the door looked like giant empty eyes.

Her arm suddenly started to itch at the joint. The few tracks she had accrued had largely healed and were almost completely gone, but they still burned for the poison she'd let herself come to need.

"Hey, you okay?" asked Olivia.

Mia nodded. "I'm fine. I think I'm going to go around back for a while. It's just…I haven't been here in so long. It's a lot to take in. Do you guys mind?"

"No, go ahead. We'll wait for David out here."

Mia grabbed her bag and started for the back of the house, stopping at the corner of the front porch. "Do you think he'll show?"

"Of course, honey. He's your brother. He wouldn't—"  
"No, not…I'm not talking about David."

"Oh. I don't know. We'll see."

Unsatisfied with the answer but determined not to make it obvious, Mia nodded faintly and walked off. When she was out of sight, Olivia shot Eric a wicked look.

"What?" he said defensively.

"I still can't believe you invited him up here."

"He had a right to know. The poor guy was going crazy when Mia disappeared. Besides, he's our friend, too."

Olivia sighed. "I just don't know if it's a good idea for them to be together through this. The last thing she needs right now is extra stress. You haven't seen it when it gets really bad. One wrong thing and she could snap."

"What she needs is people who care about her, and nobody cares more than him."

"How do you figure that?"

"I figured it around the time when he was calling me every day asking if we had any news about her. When I told him she was back on that shit I thought he was going to lose it. So yeah, I think he should be here."

Defeated, Olivia crossed her arms and kicked the dirt. "Yeah, well, you better hope nothing goes wrong."

Eric was glad the argument had ended there, but the ensuing silence filled him with an unexplainable dread as the woods around them groaned in the wind.

XXXXX

"Shit," Rick Taylor said as he came to a stop where the road intersected with a rocky stream flowing down out of the hills to the west. For hours he'd been regretting his decision to ride his motorcycle on such a long trip, and the unfavorable roads were the least of his mounting unease. It was deep wilderness out there. Everything seemed inhospitable, and he couldn't get his sick worry for Mia out of his head. The farther into the woods he rode, the heavier the feeling in his gut became. The thought of her going through something so hard and potentially dangerous way out in the middle of nowhere seemed wrong to him. There was no cell reception or internet so far out, and the last working phone resided at a gas station miles back. Rick didn't like it one bit.

After making the decision to go, he'd jumped on his bike largely on impulse. Forgetting the fact that he would have had to borrow a vehicle, he still thought his motorcycle would allow him to travel faster. Looking at the sky, he wished he had thought about the weather. The temperamental bike was a handful even on city streets. He did not feel the need to test its limits on rough terrain. In any case, he was stuck with it.

He took one last look across the stream where the road wound up into the hills, disappearing into the darkness of row upon row of sharp green pine. The sky overhead was crowded with angry looking clouds. The last thing he needed was rain. For the moment, all he cared about was getting to Mia, so he cranked the throttle and started across. Thankfully, the water was barely heel deep, but it still splashed up as he rode across, soaking through his jeans.

_Oh, this is real nice. Fresh air, the open road, a fifty-mile wedgie. Come on, what are we doin' up here Rick?_

Once across, he picked up speed, wishing the roar of the engine and the hiss of passing wind could drown out the words bouncing around inside his skull.

_And Mia…hmm, sweet, succulent Mia…_

"Shut up," Rick said inside his helmet and accelerated until the handlebars began to shake. After regaining his calm and thinking better of it, he back off the throttle.

_Smart. After all, what good would you be smeared all over the road?_

It was a good question. An even better question was what good would he be at all? He hadn't seen her since the hospital, and even then they hadn't had much to say. There was nothing he wanted more than to finally set things right, but old ghosts made him question whether or not that was even possible. Outside his head, the road stretched onward, devoured mile by mile by his wheels, but inside…his thoughts shook.

XXXXX

Thirteen months ago…

Miskatonic University had one of the most famous and storied libraries in the United States. Experts, professionals, and scholars routinely traveled far distances to visit the historic grounds and see firsthand the vast array of knowledge housed within the campus walls. The occult section in particular was a dream come true for a student like Rick. For his admissions essay, he'd written a treatise on the historical connection between mental illness, demonic possession, and haunted locales, and even spent the night (illegally) at Philadelphia's Eastern State Penitentiary to add credence to the paper. The work paid off, as he was admitted and even won the early esteem of Wingate Peasley, the school's leading psychology professor. Upon admittance, however, he quickly became acquainted with Dr. Henry Armitage, the Chief Librarian. With hard work, luck, and perseverance, Rick was eventually admitted nearly full privileges and access to all but the most restricted works kept under lock and key by Dr. Armitage himself.

When he would otherwise be considered dead to the world, Rick could be found somewhere in the myriad aisles, browsing various works of miscellaneous lore. Parapsychology had been something of a favored pursuit since childhood. Unfortunately, there was not much one could do in such a field, but the halls of Miskatonic had a way of collecting strange stories.

Rick was sitting in the light of a single lamp at one of the library's enormous wooden study tables, trying to translate an ancient Sumerian tome for one of his professors when a voice penetrated the fog of his concentration.

"Hey, Rick."

Rick looked up and slid aside a stack of books a foot high, exposing his face to his friend, Felix. "Hey, man," he said. "What's going on?"

"Not much." Felix set a large file box on the end of the table. "Just got some cool stuff here. Thought you might want to be the first to check it out."

"Sure," Rick said. "Whatcha got?"

"Some pretty interesting stuff. Have you ever heard of a guy named Raymond Knowby?"

"Yeah, sounds familiar. Archeologist, right? Professor Armitage showed me a few of his articles once."

"Well, apparently, he was a demonologist, too. Looks like he was researching some crazy stuff."

Rick stood up and joined his friend at the end of the table. "Was? I didn't know he died."

"Nobody knows if he died. He's missing. It's been a few weeks now, I'm surprised you haven't heard about it."

"Missing? Holy shit."

"Yeah, he was into some pretty heavy stuff. I guess Dr. West invited him to speak here a few years ago, but the guy never made it out. West said a few people in the academic community thought Knowby was losing his marbles. I thumbed through one of his journals and don't disagree."

"Isn't a few weeks a little soon for us to have his personal research?"

"This was all sent here from his office. Guess he wanted the university to have it. Anyway, I thought you might like to look over some of this stuff before I put it into the archives."

"Hell yeah. Thanks, man."

"No prob. Hey, do you know where that book on Philip Lemarchand is?"

"Yeah, I had it out the other day. It's in the back office with the Elm Street files. You want me to grab it?"

"No, I'll get it later. Doctor West was asking for it."

Rick pulled out a large but battered wooden box. "What's this?"

"Good question. I'm not going to try to open it. It's officially the property of the school now."

"What the…is it nailed shut?"

"Yeah, all the way. And get this—the thing was wrapped in razor wire."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, and not just wrapped, like…covered in it. They snipped it off at the post office. Look, don't mess around with that okay? You know how much trouble you could get into."

"Yeah, I know. Don't worry, I'll take care of it. I won't even touch it."

"I'm just saying, it would be your ass. Hey, I think your phone's ringing."

Rick looked up from the box and suddenly heard the vibrations of his phone rattling next to his notes. He looked over his shoulder and saw the picture on the screen. "It's my friend, Mia."

Felix's eyebrows went up. "Still just friends, huh?"  
"Shut up."

"Ha! I'll catch you later," Felix said and turned away.

"Yeah, later." Rick picked up his phone. "Hey. What's up?"

"Not much," Mia said. "What are you going?"

"I'm in the library working on some stuff. You?"

"Just got back from the hospital."

"How's your mom?"

"She's okay. I think it's getting worse, though. If she just wasn't so damn stubborn."

"So that's where you get it from."

"Not really, I just like to get on your nerves. So, listen, you wanna hang out tonight?"

Rick's first impulse was to say yes right away, but he was painfully aware that he had been making himself unattractively available over the past year or so. Coupled with the heavy vibes he couldn't help but give off, it was no wonder he had been stuck in the friend zone for so long. "I don't know," he said. "I've got a lot of work to do."

"Cut the shit. Just come over later, okay? I've got something I want to show you."

"What?"

"My severed head collection! Just come over, okay? Please?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll see you in a little bit."

"Okay, bye."

Rick ended the call and let his imagination run wild. Mia had been one of his best friends for years, and they'd grown as close as two people could since her mother had gotten sick. To top it all off, he'd been falling hard for her for a long time, and every time he thought she couldn't get more oblivious, she said something or made some move that signaled every nerve in his body quite intensely that she was onto him. Things were too complicated to just come out and say it, though, and until she made it obvious that she felt the same way, or at least felt _something_, he wasn't going to be the one to say anything.  
"Way to go," he said to himself, rubbing at his eyes.

_What a pussy_.

He looked up, sure that Felix had come back to give him a hard time, but scanning the room he saw that he was alone. "Hello?" he spoke into the empty space.

Only silence replied.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"I don't know," Natalie said at the crest of a small dip in the road, just before her stomach lurched with the rapid rise and fall of the terrain. "I just feel weird coming along for something like this. I mean, meeting your friends during a…_intervention_?" Her feelings of unease had spiked when the woods had begun closing in, just miles before the asphalt gave way to rocks and bare earth. She had tried to keep them contained, but now, in the gathering shadows of the deep forest, they finally spilled out.

"It'll be fine, baby," said David, placing a hand on her knee. "Besides, I haven't seen these guys in a while and I want them to meet you. I hate that it has to be like this, too, but my sister needs help and I really need to be here for her."

"Yeah but…" she looked out the window at the trees whipping by, "way out here?"

She didn't notice David's knuckles go taught and white as he gripped the wheel. "I know, sweetie, it seems strange, but I trust my friends. I just hope Olivia knows what she's doing."

Olivia. David felt bad that he was more nervous about seeing her again than his own sister. It seemed like it had been so long. He and Olivia had broken up only weeks before he decided to leave, and there had been a lot of unresolved issues left on the table. He was sure she'd moved on, as he had himself. A part of him still couldn't help but wonder if she ever thought about him the way he occasionally found himself thinking about her.

When he met Natalie, he thought she was the final piece, the last step of putting everything behind him. He'd worked so hard to get out of the shadow of his former life, to shake loose the bonds of his crazy, neglectful mother and build a life for himself somewhere new. Now, after all he'd gone through, after all he'd changed, he was back. Back because his sister didn't escape the way he had and wasn't able to handle it.

"It's so sad," Natalie said, placing her hand on his. "To get messed up like that."

David shifted nervously. "Yeah. She's had to go through a lot. After I left, Mom just kept getting worse and worse. I don't know exactly when the drugs started, but I guess it's pretty bad, so try to be prepared, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable, but I don't know how long this is going to take and I didn't want to leave you back home. I don't know, maybe this whole thing is a mistake."

She intertwined her fingers in his and squeezed gently. "No, baby. I want to be here for you. I can't imagine how hard this is on you."

"We'll get through it. We just might have to put a few plans on hold for a while, because I can't leave my sister again."

"I understand. We'll do whatever we have to."

The words were pretty, but they caked the truth of the matter like heavy makeup. He didn't tell her that he'd known something was up for a while. He never told her about the calls he'd gotten, the warnings, the pleas for understanding. He'd been too busy to pay them any heed, too hopeful that it would all just go away on its own. Now he saw that was a mistake, and he was going to have to pay the price.

He smiled and kissed her hand. "Look, we're here."

He pulled his SUV into what could be considered the front yard, only instead of grass it was a plate of dirt and dry pine needles. He parked on the side opposite the Jeep and killed the engine. The first thing he saw when he stepped out was Olivia's smile. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, and his memory was quite vivid. He tried to keep inappropriate thoughts at bay, but it was difficult as he took in her lithe and shapely physique tucked into a pair of tight black pants and a leather jacket, probably designer wear.

"Hey there, city boy," she said. The light ran amok over her raven black hair as she approached.

He couldn't help but smile back boyishly. "Hey Olivia."

"Don't you 'hey Olivia' me," she teased, mocking his tone. She held up her arms. "Give me a hug. Come on, two hands, like you missed me."

They met in a warm embrace. David breathed deeply, taking in every bit of her scent. She had smelled as good on so many nights together. Coming back from such memories, he was careful not to linger, and quickly pulled away. "Hey," he said, stepping back and pulling Natalie close to him, "this is my girlfriend Natalie. Natalie, this is Olivia."

Olivia feigned her most sincere smile and took the blonde girl's outstretched hand. "It's so nice to meet you," she said.

"You too. I hear you and David go way back."

"We sure do."

A moment of stiff silence invaded the space between the three of them. Sensing the sudden rise in tension, David turned, much to Olivia's relief, to give his attention to Eric, who was standing patiently beside the Jeep, breathing on his glasses and wiping them with his shirt.

"Glad you could make it," he said.

David's eyes widened. "Jesus, look at you. Looks like Grizzly Adams took a shit on your head. When did you grow all that?"

Even through his anger at his friend, Eric couldn't help but break a half-smile. "A while ago. At least I can grow a beard. I see you've stayed dainty."

"Yeah yeah. You look good, man."

"I know," he said, sliding on his glasses.

David turned to Olivia. He didn't need to ask.

"She went around back," Olivia said. "You should go talk to her."

David looked at Natalie. "I'll be back in a few minutes, babe."

"Don't worry about us girls," Olivia said. "She's going to tell me all about how you two met, and then I'm going to tell every embarrassing story about you I know. Eric's going to help me, right Eric?"

Eric smiled. "Oh, I've got a couple doozies."

David leaned in and kissed Natalie on the cheek. "Don't listen to a word they say."

He left them and walked away. On the far side of the house, out of sight of his friends and not yet within sight of his sister, it was just him and the woods for a short lonely stretch. He reached out and ran his fingers along the rough wooden boards of the cabin. Worn and weathered, they bowed out in places, cracked with miniscule splinters and magnificently ugly knots. One knot in particular was the one on which he'd always placed his forehead when playing hide and seek. Stopping for just a moment, he kneeled down and placed his head against it. He closed his eyes, only instead of the sweetly nostalgic sepia-toned images of a childhood passed, he was bombarded with the horrific scene of his mother in the hospital, skeletal and pale. Her wide-open eyes rolled like greased ball bearings inside her head as she tore at her face until bright red blood streaked the sheets. With a slick hand, she reached out and screamed his name.

_DDAAAVVVVIIIIIIDDD!_

He opened his eyes with a sick feeling, unsure of where the awful thoughts had come from. He looked up at the side of the cabin looming above him, except now he did so with a sense of foreboding. Things were not the same…not by a long shot.

Mia was sitting on the rusty hood of their dad's forgotten Oldsmobile. He'd barely gotten the old junker there before it gave out entirely and he and David had been forced to push it into the woods behind the cabin. For years the old man swore he'd get around to making it run again. That was the least of the promises he hadn't kept.

Mia, scribbling in a notebook and smoking a cigarette, looked up as her brother approached. His, long, lean frame had filled out some, but he still looked somewhat stringy, no doubt from the hours spent working in a garage. She had expected to be filled with some great rage seeing him again, but instead she felt only the weight of her own exhaustion. At this point, she didn't feel like trying to hurt him anymore than she felt like running a marathon.

"Hey, sis," he said.

"Hey, bro. What brings you to this neck of the woods? Just passing through?"

David stuck his hands in his pockets. "I don't know. Thought I might stick around for a while. You're looking—"

"I know I look like shit."

"I was going to say beautiful."

"You're still a bad liar."

"And you're still such a smartass."

They looked at each other for a moment until he said, "Come here." She rose from the hood of the car and walked into his open arms, happy to be reunited with family for the first time in a long time.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry to rip you away from your life and bring you into my problems."

"Hey, don't say that. You've got nothing to be sorry for, kiddo. I just…I wish you would've called me, talked to me."

"I know. I didn't talk to anybody. When Rick disappeared and then Mom died, I…guess I just went off the deep end. Have you…talked to him?"

There it was—the name David had dreaded hearing. At one time, Rick had been a good friend and someone David thought was good for his sister, but then the guy started falling apart, acting weird and drinking all the time. Later, when Eric had told him about Rick leaving, David felt it was for the best, though he now saw just how much it had hurt Mia. _Just do it quick,_ he thought, _like ripping off a band-aid._

"Yeah. Listen, Mia, I have to tell you something. Over the fall and winter, I got a couple of calls from Rick."

The shock was clear on Mia's face. "What?"

"He called my apartment, then the garage. He, um, he told me he was worried about you. He…wanted me to come back."

Her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, worried about me?"

"He told me about the drugs," David said, voice shaky. "I had already heard from Eric that you were acting weird, but I was really surprised when Rick called. He told me that he was pretty messed up, that he was drinking a lot and that he didn't think it was safe to be near you."

"Last winter? That was before he left."

"Yeah. He knew he was getting worse. He…told me how much he loved you. He was afraid Mom's condition was really getting to you, but I swear he didn't say anything about you being addicted to that stuff."

"That's because he didn't know!"

"I know, and I should have come home then, but when Eric told me he split I thought you would be in the clear. I should have come back, but Mia, I just…"

"I can't…whatever. It's in the past. I know I should be pissed at you, but I'm just too goddamned tired, David. You're here now, and Rick's not."

"I don't know what happened to him, I don't know what he was going through, but it really sounded like he cared about you a lot."

"Yeah, he cared so much he ran the other way."

"Mia…"

The approach of a far off motor hit their ears. It came in rough, staccato coughs, echoing roughly through the trees.

Mia looked up. "Who else is supposed to be coming?" she asked, a hopeful glaze coating her eyes.  
David shrugged. "No one, I…I don't know."

Mia closed her eyes and smiled slightly, shaking her head in disbelief and confused joy. "I'll be damned. It's him."

XXXXX

_Uh-oh. I'm gettin' a bad vibe here, Rick. It smells like shit and rot and…something old…really old. Hey, this might be fun after all._

"Stop trying to mess with me," Rick said. The words were largely unnecessary. He could converse through the weight of his thoughts, but speaking was a force of habit.

_Can the bullshit, would ya? I know you feel it, too. It's getting worse the further we go. There's something in these woods._

"What do you care? Afraid you'll run into a pissed off cousin?"

_Hey, I'm just lookin' out for you._

"Since when?"

_C'mon. You're my vessel…I mean, buddy. You and I both know I'd get around one way or another eventually, but I'd still like to hang on to you. It's been a long time since I've met somebody I enjoy fuckin' with so much. Seriously, though, keep your guard up, bucko._

"There's nothing up here but bear shit and bad emotions. Just don't try to start any trouble or you'll end up a beaver's chew toy."

_Fine, be a hard-ass. No sweat off my sack…you know, if I had one. Just keep me close, Rick. If the shit hits the fan, you're gonna want me around._

"As charming as you are, I can't imagine anyone not wanting you around," Rick said sarcastically as they crested another small hill. The trees began to break in the distance and he could finally see the cabin, nestled back away from the road. "We're almost there. Remember what I said. Not another word or I _will _toss you into a pile of that aforementioned bear shit."

_Whatever you say, tough guy. Just remember what I said, too. Something's off out here. We'll see how big you talk when you come begging me for help._

Though he wouldn't admit it, Rick did have a bad feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. Ever since he was young, he'd always had a sense for bad juju, and just seeing the place sent it tingling. He couldn't say what it was. Ghosts, maybe? Or just ugly memories. Either way, it wasn't his greatest concern as he pulled into the clearing where the cabin stood and silenced the bike.

Rick swung his leg off the motorcycle and pulled off his helmet. His clothes were covered with powdered dirt from the road. He patted at his shoulders and coughed lightly at the plumes of dust that rose into the air. Olivia was the first person he saw, standing around with a pretty blonde girl whom he didn't recognize. He and Olivia had always gotten along just fine. He even liked her as a person, but he always had a feeling she didn't think very highly of him, which often made him feel awkward and self-conscious in her presence.

He stuck his helmet on his bike, took a breath, and turned to face the two women. "Olivia," he said, wishing he could have opened with something warmer.

"Hello, Rick. It's been awhile."

"Yeah. How have you been?"

"You mean before or after learning that my best friend was addicted to heroin?"

_Well, that didn't take long_, Rick thought. He tried to move past it, as if instead he had heard something like: "_Why, I've been just peachy, Rick, and oh how swell it is to see you again._"

He bowed his head like a dog after a whack on the nose. "I heard you got your nursing license. Congratulations."

She placed her hands on her hips and looked away, ashamed that she'd already started in on him. "Thanks."

Rick looked around. "Where's Eric?"

"He's off pissing in the woods or something," she said with a wave of her hand.

Behind them, they heard the sound of leaves crunching underfoot.

"Look at this sorry sack of shit," Eric said, zipping up his fly.

Rick turned to greet his old friend. "Whoa," he said, "it's redneck Jesus. What's up with the plaid, _amigo_?"

"Style, that's what's up. Why don't you get some?"

"Hey, hobos are in this year. Where've you been? Off humping a tree stump?"

"Couldn't help it, you know how much I love thick wood." He slapped his friend on the arm. "It's good to see you again."

"Yeah, you too. Both of you. It's been…too long."

"Yeah, it has. Where the hell have you been all this time?"

Rick didn't quite know what to say. "It's kind of hard to explain. How've you been?"

"I've been good. Mia…not so much."

Rick's face became grave. "Where is she?"

"Around back," Olivia said, "with David."

Rick turned to face her. "David's here?"

She nodded.

"Are you two going to be all right?" asked Eric.

Rick took a breath. "I hope so. I didn't come here to start trouble. I just…I need to see Mia. I've been looking for her forever. You guys have to know that."

Eric put a hand on his shoulder. "We know, man. You're here now, that's all that matters."

"I just don't want to fuck this up," Rick said. He noticed the blonde girl standing off to the side politely while they indulged in conversation. He held up a hand and gave a shy wave. "Hello."

Olivia looked back as if forgetting the girl was there. Rick didn't know that's exactly what she was wishing. "This is, uh, David's girlfriend, Natalie."

Rick nodded to her. "It's nice to meet you."

"You, too," she said. "You're Mia's boyfriend?"

"I…uh…I was, sort of. It's kind of complicated."

Oliva's eyes rolled. "That's the understatement of the century."

"Hey," Eric said, "give him a break."

Rick shook his head. "No, she's right. I have no idea how she's going to react to me being here. Either of them. I really screwed up."

Eric nudged his arm. "You'll be fine, Chicken Little. If it does come down to a steel cage match, though, my money's on Mia."

"Mine, too," Rick said.

As if on cue, David and Mia walked around the side of the cabin.

At once, David fixed a steely gaze on Rick. "You've got some nerve to come up here."

"David, don't," Mia tried to stop it before it could start.

Rick took a breath, unsure of how to proceed. "I know," he said, "but I'm here just the same."

They began walking across the clearing toward one another, like two gunslingers ready for a high-noon duel. Instead of bullets they had words, and instead of guns they had fragile emotions and pitiful excuses. Either way, things could get messy.

"I'm telling you right now," David began, "if you brought any of that shit up here—"

"I didn't, I swear. I'm clean, I've been clean, and I just want Mia to get clean, too. That's why I came. I want to be here for her, for everybody."

When David stepped forward again, closing the last bit of distance between them, a part of Rick expected to be slugged in the face, but his fears were assuaged when his old friend wrapped his arms around him. The hug was quick and to the point, and when David stepped back his face had softened. "It's good to see you again," he said.

"You too, man. It's good to see everybody, and I…" he looked at Mia and the words stuck in his throat. Seeing her face again after so long awakened a dormant chamber deep within his heart—an old machine that screeched to life once again, pumping new blood through long dry veins. She was small, but her current state made her look like a ghost. He marveled once again at her muddy-red hair and deep glassy eyes. Her skin, devoid of nearly all color, looked as smooth as fine china. Unknowingly, he rubbed his clenched fists with thumbs, remembering perfectly the feel of that smoothness.

"Yeah," she said. "You're late."

"Yeah."

David looked at his bike. "You're still riding that old thing?"

"Until it breaks down, I guess."

"I'm surprised you made it up here. These dirt roads could have swallowed it whole."

"I would've walked the rest of the way if they had."

The whole gang, reunited, stood in the shadow of the cabin, seemingly ten times larger than the structure itself. The woods had fallen into perfect silence, and in the distance, pockets of thunder tore through the sky. Memories and old emotions passed through them all in those precious and horrifying moments. It could have…_should_ have been a happy time.

"Well, everybody's here," Olivia said. "Mia, you ready to do this?"

Trying to keep her eyes away from Rick's, the girl nodded. "Yeah, I'm ready."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys. I want to say a quick thanks to everyone who has checked out the story so far, and thanks for the comments and follows. You have no idea what it means to me that anyone even reads my stuff and it really keeps me motivated to keep going. Though there's been a lot of buildup and reveal in the beginning, I just wanted to throw something out for anyone who might not know by this point. The Rick Taylor in the story is the character from the **_**Splatterhouse**_** video games series, but seeing as the storyline of the games doesn't really come into play, I didn't want to categorize this as a crossover. Now that we've got that out of the way, on with the story.**

Chapter 3

Beside the cabin stood the shed, and beyond that was the old stone well, nestled lonely at the edge of the woods. They went there together as a group, David leading the way and Rick flagging behind. Mia walked next to Olivia, twisting her neck every so often to look back at Rick. She kept her head down and let her hair fall over her face to mask her attempts, but Olivia knew well what was going on.

Rick's eyes stayed mostly on the ground as they walked, but just as frequently rose to watch her. She wore a skirt and he chastised himself every time he let his gaze linger for too long on her smooth, perfect calves. Even in a state of ruin, her body held an irresistible draw he'd been trying to forget since their last goodbye…the bad goodbye.

He remembered the first time he'd been allowed to touch them unrestrained. His hands might as well have been filled with lead. His fingers fumbled awkwardly over her flesh as if every inch of her was a piece to a puzzle he couldn't get to fit together. He still thought of her like that sometimes. Maybe if he'd spent just a little more time trying to put those pieces together, things wouldn't have gotten so far out of hand.

"I still remember how much this thing used to scare me as a kid," David said, his voice breaking Rick from his thoughtful daze. "I used to think there was something down there, waiting for me to come close."

They formed a loose circle around the well. It was stacked three stones high with a makeshift spindle of calcified wood slowly turning to dust over the mouth. The sight of it called to mind old horror movies with evil ghosts hidden by locks of long black hair. A thick fog had begun to roll in from the woods, blanketing the forest floor and licking at their heels. The last of the light suffusing the surrounding woods had become as flat and grey as concrete. The sky was now darkly overcast, promising rain with every chilly breath.

Rick watched Mia with rapt attention, noticing the quickening of her pulse as she reached into the pocket of her letterman jacket and produced the clear baggy containing the last of her stash.

The sight of the powder made his gut twist in need—old feelings he had hoped were left behind for good. Memories came back to him in a frenzied rush of sensation. He saw in image of her face, eyes wild and bloodshot after they'd been awake for almost two days. He saw her sleeping on his couch afterward, beads of sweat rolling off her forehead, her jaw clenching as her body dealt with the poison gliding through her veins. Lastly, he saw her after the first time they'd made love—the way she looked at him like she finally let herself see something she never had before, and the look of fear that maybe she had made a terrible mistake. He'd spent days wrapped in that look, trying to figure her out the way he had a million times before.

Mia's voice was strained but solid as she began. "I know I've put you all through a lot. I know I messed up, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I've been such a pain in everyone's ass. I can't thank you guys enough for coming up here to help me with this, and I promise—" she held out her hand and upturned the packet, spilling its contents into the depths of the darkness below, "I will never touch this shit again."

They all watched the soft powder fall away into the well like a fresh snow. David watched with pride and hope, Olivia watched with skeptic doubt, Eric and Natalie watched with pity, and Rick watched with unnamed dread. He looked into Mia's eyes and saw the fire that burned within as her great pleasure and pain was wasted in the company of interlopers who couldn't mind their own business. He could practically hear the voices in her head telling her to keep calm and keep putting on a good show. They were the same voices he'd heard so long ago when he was protecting his own habits. It felt like barbed wire around his heart when he thought that, just maybe, she'd learned that trick from him.

As the rest of them gazed into the dark abyss, Mia's eyes shot up, capturing Rick's like a hidden snare. It was the first time she'd looked directly at him. The heat from that gaze could have burned him as she said. "Time to face some demons."

With that stare he was thrust suddenly and violently back into the past…back to the first taste of that dreadful, wonderful pain. Back to the first time he'd tasted her.

_Poor Rick,_ the voice resonated in his head. _And to think, you didn't even smell it on her—the stink of the guy she fucked to get it._

XXXXX

_Mia's apartment complex slumped at the ass-end the industrial district, along an 80-mile lane of parts warehouses, storage units, dodgy used-car lots, and nondescript office buildings. It was perhaps the most depressing stretch of road Rick had ever seen, and he loved it. At three visible points along the horizon, skinny towers belched grey-black smoke into the sky. In the early evening, when the stacks had been puffing their poison all day, the stench of sulfur was almost strong enough to give you a headache._

_ Rick stood outside, growing damp under a light rain from a dark sky. He'd been growing steadily more nervous around Mia. As thoughts of revealing his attraction skittered around the edges of his mind, his anxiety increased in turn. After leaving the library, he stopped by his own apartment, tidied up a bit, and grabbed three vodka miniatures from his stash. He had finished the second as he pulled into the parking lot of Mia's apartment building, but decided to leave the third in the glove box. He had the beginnings of a nice buzz working and he didn't want Mia to think he'd been drinking._

_ She shared the apartment with her mother ever since she and David had been forced to sell off the family house. Once their mother became too ill to work, it had become impossible to keep up with the payments. She lived now almost exclusively on her mother's disability checks and whatever money she could make waitressing. Rick went in on the rent quite often, or lent her money whenever he could pick up an extra shift at S-Mart, a department store near campus. He knew she had it rough, and he admired her strength more than he could say. Feeling the way he did for her, the feeling that she deserved so much more sometimes overwhelmed him._

_ Upstairs, he knocked and let himself in, the box from the library tucked under one arm and covered by his jacket. Mia was on the couch reading an Electronic Gaming Monthly magazine he'd left there. Her honey-red hair was blow-dried smooth and glossy, standing out in stark contrast against her milky skin. She wore a baggy Deftones sweater and shorts that were a little too tight for Rick's comfort._

_ Her face lit up when he walked in. "Hey stranger. Whoa, what did you bring me?"_

_ "Very cool stuff," he said, trying to ignore the way she rubbed one socked foot against the pale flesh of her leg._

_ "Really?"_

_ "Yeah. Felix brought it into the library today."_

_ "What is it?"_

_ "Most of it is research notes, journal entries, stuff like that. It's pretty creepy though. And there's this." He held up the scratched and battered wooden box. "Felix said it was wrapped in razor wire." He walked to the fridge. "Want a root beer?"_

_ "Sure, thanks. So…what's in it?"_

_ "Sugar mostly, though the name comes from the sassafras root."_

_ "I mean the box, dork."_

_ "Oh, don't know. It's nailed shut." _

_ "So…let's pop the sucker open."_

_ "Nice try. You know how much trouble I'd be in? I really shouldn't have taken it out of the library, but I want to look through it before we file it all away and I thought you'd get a kick out of it." He carried the box and the drinks to the living room and sat them on the table. The couch was L-shaped and he sat on the end furthest from Mia. The buzz from the alcohol was reaching just the right frequency and he couldn't help but let his gaze linger on her stretched body. The sweater had ridden up just enough to allow view of her belly._

_ "Why'd you sit way down there?"_

_ "You looked comfy. I didn't want to cramp you."_

_ She looked at him oddly for a moment. "Have you been drinking?"_

_ "Hmm? Nope."_

_ "Don't lie, Rick."_

_ "I had, like, two shots of Vodka. That's all."_

_ She looked disappointed and made no attempt to hide it as she turned her attention back to the magazine. "I told you not to drink without me."_

_ "You don't have to keep tabs on me, you know."_

_ "You're drinking before dinner time, so, I think I do."_

_ "Fine. So, anyway…" He let the sentence trail off and watched her face for clues as to what she was hiding. It was obvious she was no longer reading, but simply looking at the pages in an attempt to tease him. A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She knew he was watching her, and she was having fun with it."_

_ "What did you want to show me?"_

_ Again she ignored him. After a moment she looked over the top of the page at the box where it sat on the table. "That thing looks like a psycho's jewelry box. It's probably got Norman Bates's porn stash inside…or a penis collection or something."_

_ "Come on. Don't change the subject…Mia!"_

_ She broke a wide grin of shiny little pearl teeth and tossed the magazine. "Okay," she said, rising to her knees. "I got something cool today, too. I want you to try it with me."_

_ With a raised eyebrow, Rick said, "Maybe I should be drunk for this, after all."_

_ "Shut up," she said, hopping off the couch. His eye caught the gentle swell of her breasts through the sweater as she hung for a millisecond in midair. He always hated himself for letting such thoughts crowd into his brain. He was supposed to be her friend, for God's sake, so he shook them loose and picked up the magazine she'd thrown aside, thumbing through the pages as the bounced off down the hallway._

_ "I got it from this guy my friend works with," she called from her room. "He said it's a real rush as long as you don't do too much."_

_ She swayed back into the living room with her arm behind her back, the sweater slipping down and revealing one smooth, white shoulder. The smile on her face was as devious as he'd ever seen._

_ This girl is trying to kill me, Rick thought. "Well," he said, "what is it?"_

_ "Guess."_

_ He scratched the scruff on his chin. "Hmm, new Monster Energy?"_

_ She shook her head. "Nope."_

_ "If it's some kind of vegan snack, I'm going to be really disappointed."_

_ She laughed and showed him the little glass bottle of off-white powder. "Ever heard of diamorphine?"_

_ Rick's tone became serious. "Where the hell did you get heroin?" he asked in surprise._

_ She dropped her hands in frustration. "I go through all this trouble to get some china white and throw out a big word for you and that's all you can say?"_

_ He sat back with a sigh. "Jesus, Mia."_

_ "What? You said you've done coke before."_

_ "Well, yeah. Like two lines in my buddy's dorm room once. I seem to recall telling you it made me feel like shit afterward."_

_ "Fine then, fuck it," she said, clearly pissed. "I guess I shouldn't have called you. I just thought you'd want to hang out and get fucked up for a while."_

_ "Yeah, but Mia…that stuff?"_

_ "Excuse me if I want to try something different. You know I've been at the hospital for almost three days straight? I don't want to think about anything right now. I don't want to think about Mom, I don't want to smoke anymore weed, I just…" She was on the verge of yelling, and Rick saw a single tear roll down her cheek. "I bet you would've been all over it if I'd pulled out a bag of booze, huh? What if I took a bottle of whisky and poured it all over myself? What would you do then, Rick?"_

_ He was frozen in place by the words she'd just said. He wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn't find anything but jumbled syllables rolling around on his tongue. She tossed the bottle on the carpet and curled into a ball at the end of the couch furthest from Rick. "Just leave," she said, clutching a pillow to her chest and hiding her face._

_ Even then, he knew that he should have flushed the stuff down the toilet, but he wasn't going to leave, and he would've done anything at that moment to see her smile. Slowly, he rose to his feet and retrieved the bottle from the carpet. He placed it on the coffee table and sat down next to Mia. It put another small fracture in his heart when she drew her feet away from him, as if his betrayal had been so bad even his mere proximity disgusted her._

_ "Okay," he told her, "let's get fucked up."_

_ She peeked over the top of the pillow. "Are you sure? We don't have to."_

_ He half smiled. "You think I'm some kind of lightweight, don't you? Think I'm not up to the challenge?"_

_ She dropped the pillow, revealing the greatest smile he'd ever seen. She wiped away the glistening trail the tears had left and sat up straighter, moving closer to him._

_ "Look," he said, "I know how hard things are right now. I'm glad you called, I'm always glad when you call. Hanging out with you is the best part of my day. I promise you, Mia, I will never, ever—" His words were cut off by the last thing he'd ever expected. She took his face in her delicate hands and softly pressed her lips against his. Her mouth opened, pushing the taste of fresh, salty tears onto his tongue. Every bone in his body turned to jelly, except for one very important one, when she quickly pulled away, covering her mouth shyly. Her cheeks were flushed the color of grocery store salmon._

_ "Sorry," she said, looking away._

_ "It's…uh…it's okay. Don't…don't worry about it."_

_ They opened the bottle and the rest of the night was a blur of frenzied motion and color, a miasma of fast words and laughter and heat. Inhibitions released by the sick, euphoric grip of the drug, they ended up in bed, rolling atop the sheets like two starving dogs. Rick had never known any feeling like what was rushing through him, and it wasn't the smack. At once, the darkness he'd known all his life vanished. He had no idea another, deeper darkness was waiting to fill the space._

_ Afterwards, spent and covered in sweat, they laid in each other's arms. In those moments, Rick ached to tell her how much he loved her, that he had loved her for years, but even riding a wild and delirious high he knew better than to go all out and risk scaring her away._

_ Mia lifted her head from his chest and said, "Please don't hate me."_

_ "Why would I hate you?"_

_ "For pulling you into all of my stupid shit. I just don't know where I'd be without you. I don't want you to think that I'm using you or that…that this doesn't mean anything to me."_

_ He brushed her hair behind her ear. "I don't think that at all."_

_ "I care about you," she said. To Rick it sounded as though she were trying to convince herself as much as him._

_ "I care about you, too. A lot. I always have, Mia. I would follow you into Hell."_

_ "Well I'd say I'm at least halfway there," she said with a smile. "Shit. Are you as amped as I am?"_

_ "Yeah," he replied, sitting up. "You should probably smoke a bowl. I've heard it helps. We're gonna feel like roadkill later on."_

_ "Okay, but I need some water first. Hey, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"_

_ "You're still thinking about that damn box, aren't you?"_

_ "How'd you know?"_

_ "Because I am, too."_

_ "I can't help it. What if there's something really nasty inside…or money?"_

_ Rick felt troublesome thoughts creep into his brain that didn't feel like his own. He couldn't deny the intense need to know, as if the box was calling to him. "Go get it," he said._

_ Mia looked surprised. "But you said you could get into lot of trouble."_

_ "It's not my fault the nails were loose."_

_ She grinned devilishly, showing him again just how scary she could be._

XXXXX

The cabin showed the scabs of age and neglect. In the years since their mother became ill, it had become little more than a faint memory. With nothing of any importance to call them back, the place was left to weather nature's harsh attacks on its own. Now, worn and unkempt, it was merely a shell of its former glory. Never again would it shine brightly in the rays of the summer sun.

Thunder rolled through the clouds above.

Rick didn't like it. The rotten feeling was back. He wasn't exactly a nature nut, but he knew that bad weather up in the hills could be dangerous. As always, his thoughts were on Mia, and how terrible it could be if she ended up being stranded there in her condition.

"Seems like it's been forever," Mia said, her mind soaking in bath of long ago memories.

On the porch, David saw where the padlock on the door had been busted. He placed his hand on the dry wood and pushed, the door gliding inward with a dull groan of thirsty hinges. The fading light of the day could barely permeate the oil-thick darkness inside. "Looks like somebody broke in," he said. The tool most likely used, a long yellow wrecking bar, lay on the floor just inside the doorway. David picked it up and set it aside as he entered.

One by one they filed in. The floor was littered with dirt and pine needles blown in from outside. Mia stood in the middle of the living room, the pain evident on her face as she looked around at what had become of the one refuge she still had. Rick stood in the shadows, watching her every move, her every twitch.

"Mom would've hated to see the cabin like this," she said.

David turned to face the group. "It's a little rough, but I think we can make it work. So come on, let's make this place livable."

Rick looked out the window at the deep woods and darkening sky. _I'd follow you into Hell_. The words reverberated in his head like ricocheting bullets. He'd said them, and he meant them. Why were they causing him such discomfort now? Perhaps he was sensing some terrible turn of events yet to pass, some darkness yet to befall them. He looked at Mia, for the first time doubting whether it would be possible to reconcile with her. He was beginning to believe she really did hate his guts, and if there was no way to make things right, then he truly had followed her into hell.

Outside, a sharp wind cut through the woods, whistling between the trees. It sounded like screaming.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everybody. It's update time again. Special thanks to HystericalConfession and Audrey de Lune for the wonderful comments and encouragement. I almost felt like I was writing this chapter just for you guys. I hope I haven't put off too many other readers with the slow start so far. I can't explain why I feel compelled to write an Evil Dead story this way, but I'm going with my gut so please stay with me. I'm getting a few last things fleshed out before kicking up the intensity and getting to the real meat of the story, so if anybody has tuned out, please check back because I promise things will get heavy. Now, on with the next chapter.**

Chapter 4

Outside the cabin, the great blanket of slate gray cumulus, pregnant and bloated with unspilled rain, had reached critical mass, waiting patiently for Atlas to shrug.

Inside, the group set to work, thankful to have something to busy their hands. At first, small talk was sparse and swift, a commodity to be traded only in the most dire need. Eric helped Natalie bring in food and drinks from the vehicles while Mia dusted and pulled sheets off the furniture. David had disappeared into the back to check the fuse box and turn on the water. Rick walked up to Olivia as she emerged from the kitchen with a broom and dustpan.

"Can I help?" he asked.

She looked as though she'd forgotten he was there. "Yeah, thanks," she said, her manner softening. She looked at Mia, and there was a passage of thoughts between them that Rick couldn't decipher, but he didn't dare press his luck. He took up the task of sweeping away the dirt and debris, keeping his head down while he worked.

Mia, her mind still partially lost in another place and time, wandered the living room like a zombie. Rick knew he was seeing the first stages of withdrawal take hold. She was tired, weak. Her sallow skin stretched taught with the first round of chills and her cheeks, sunken and sharp, gleamed with a thin sheen of sweat. He remembered for a split second that she used to look like that—high and exhausted—as they lay in bed…

The far wall was decorated with a collection of photographs, old frozen portals of family and friends. Mia stood before them, overwhelmed by the deep feeling of regret she felt looking at the reminders of better times gone by. She gazed thoughtfully at a photo of her and her mother, the two of them smiling, happy and healthy. Mia longed for the return of the women therein, but nothing so much as she wished she could see her mom one last time. She reached out with a shaky hand and straightened a picture of her and David, taken in the backyard of their old house. She was on his back, arms wrapped around his neck. That was the brother she knew and missed. The only thing missing from the collection were pictures of her father, but those had been taken down long ago. The majority of the pictures were of her and her friends in various snapshots of the years of closeness they'd shared. There were even a few of Rick and Olivia laughing together. Olivia's opinion of Rick had only started to sour when Mia had begun spending so much time alone with him, letting on that he meant more to her than just a friend.

In the midst of all those memories, she saw one of her and Rick together. It was at her eighteenth birthday party. She could tell by the goofy, flustered look on his face that it was taken just after she'd kissed him on the cheek. She had nearly forgotten all about it. She took the picture from the wall and held it in her hand, unsure of why she did it or what she intended for it next.

"So," Olivia said to Rick, making at attempt to be friendly, "where've you been all this time?"

"That's the million dollar question," Mia mumbled under her breath.

Rick looked away in shame. "Here and there," he said. "Since I got back in town I've been working mostly."

"Yeah? Where at?"

"S-Mart, sporting goods."

"S-Mart," Oliva said with a light laugh, "I didn't know any of those were still around."

"Yeah. Just here and the first one in Dearborn, where they started."

"What about school? You go to Miskatonic, don't you?"

"Umm…not anymore."

Mia raised her head at this, the first direct action toward him since the strange look at the well. In fact, it was the first sign of real life he'd seen from her yet. "You're not in school? What happened?"

"I just…it's not what you think," he told her, referring to his drinking. "My time off just sort of…became permanent. When I came back and I couldn't find you…I couldn't go back there."

Her eyes narrowed and a look of almost pure rage passed over her face. It looked as if she wanted to spit in his face. _You took off out of nowhere, without giving a shit about me, and now I'm the reason you dropped out of school?_ Those were the words she wanted to beat him to death with, but before she could sharpen them with her tongue, Eric and Natalie walked in.

"Hey, place looks pretty good," he said. "How are we doin' on power?"

"Well, whoever was here obviously made themselves at home," said David as he reappeared in the kitchen doorway.

"How do you know that?" Eric asked, placing the last of the bags on the floor.

"We have to keep the water turned off or the pipes freeze in the winter, but it's been turned on. All the power switches in the fuse box are on, too. The whole place could've burnt down if there'd been a short, but I checked the pipes and the wiring and everything seems to be okay. Looks like we're good to go. Let's get some lights on in here."

"I'm going to check the bedroom to see if anything's missing," Mia said, eager to forget her angry thoughts.

"Like what?" David asked. "Mothballs?"

"Some of Mom's stuff might still be here." Mia's voice trailed off as she disappeared. Rick winced at the angry thump of the door being closed harder than was necessary.

"Look out for mice," David called. He looked at Olivia and Rick. "She seems to be doing okay."

Olivia looked seriously at David, her eyes foretelling the severity of her thoughts. "David, there's something you need to know. You too, Rick. Mia's done this whole thing before. I cornered her about two months ago, and she promised me she was done before she chucked her dope down the toilet. I told her I'd stay with her while she got better. It was about eight hours before she split, and I didn't see her again until I got the call that she was in the hospital. So we don't want to give her that chance this time. When she breaks—and she will, believe me—you're going to want to let her leave, but you can't."

Rick didn't like where the conversation was going. He could see David nodding his head like it all made perfect sense. "What? You want to force her to stay here?" he asked.

Eric placed a hand on his shoulder. "We've got to make her stick to it this time, man. We're doin' it for her own good, because we care."

"I know, but look at her. You've seen the state she's in. The nearest hospital is miles away. What the hell are you going to do if she goes into shock?"

Olivia didn't budge. "Look, Rick, I know you—"

"No!" he said. "You don't know. I'm sorry, Olivia. You know your stuff, I'm not arguing that, but I was hooked on that shit, too. I was ready to kill when the worst of it hit me. I pulled through it, but Mia…she's so far in, what if her body can't take it? And what if this storm opens up hard? What then? What if she really does need help and we wait too long? I've just…I've got a bad feeling about this. Let's get the hell out of here right now. We'll do this thing, and we'll make it work, just don't do it here."

"I've got everything we need to treat her," Olivia pressed. "I've got needles and sedatives. I've got Thorazine, Lorazepam—enough to put her down even if she gets violent. We just need to get through the worst of it, Rick. Then we can get her some real help back home. I know you're worried, but she'll survive this. She_ won't_ survive another OD."

Rick gritted his teeth and dropped the broom. "Fuck."

Frustrated, Olivia looked to David for backup. "Look, we all need to be together on this because we won't get another shot."

"I trust Olivia," David said. "I know it sounds risky, but she knows what she's doing and I believe it's going to work. We're going to do whatever it takes to get my sister clean. If that means pissing her off, if it means making her hate me for a few days to save her life, then that's what I'm going to do."

Rick tried to elicit some understanding from his old friend. "You _cannot_ ask me to do that to her if she comes begging to leave. I came here to make things better with her, not worse. Please David, I _have_ to make things right. I can't lose her again."

David's face was set in stone. "Now I love you, man, you know that, but _do not_ fuck this up. Please. I'm sorry I didn't listen to you before. I made a mistake, but I'm here to fix it. I know how much you care about Mia, so do this for her."

"I don't think you do know. Maybe you don't want to hear that, I don't know, but you don't understand how much it hurt me to see her breaking down when you were gone, when your mom was sick. I know why you left. I'm not judging you for that, but you weren't there. I called you, I told you! And you _weren't_ _there_! I fucked everything up, I was with her when all this shit started. I'm just trying to make things right, too. I can't hurt her again."

Rick's words angered David. Natalie, standing away from the conversation, could see it in his eyes. Olivia saw it as well, and both girls worried they might have to step in if the two came to blows. "You won't," David said. "I won't let you. If you don't like this, if you're not on board, then maybe you should leave. If you really love her the way you say you do, then you won't stand in the way of us helping her."

Rick's jaw clenched. A fast rage from a dark chamber inside came rippling through his veins. He'd known that rage before. It threatened to break the limits of his control, but he forced it down with every bit of will he could muster. "I can't leave her again."

"Why? You didn't seem to have a problem with it before, from what I hear. Why the hell did you leave, huh? Where the hell were _you_?"

Rick's mounting anger ran headlong into a steel wall—and unstoppable force against an immovable object. He couldn't answer, couldn't even begin to. His muscles tensed and then relaxed. He broke away from David's stare and relinquished the fight, knowing full well he'd lost. "You'd goddamned better be right," he said, stepping around David and heading down the hallway toward Mia.

XXXXX

Seeing her up close was even harder, but what made it almost unbearable was having to see her in the condition she was in—watching the micro-tremors run up and down her body and trying not to notice how her fingers shook. She was standing before an old oak dresser, pulling weakly at a stuck drawer.

He didn't know what to say, but figured it was best if he draw first. Not that he had expected her to run into his arms. He'd been the one to show up out of nowhere, standing around like an idiot waiting for her to acknowledge his existence. He owed her some initiative, not the other way around, so with a shallow breath he took the first tentative step into the minefield between them. "Hey."

He wondered if she would say anything at all, until finally she turned from the dresser. "Hey."

"So this is the cabin."

"Yeah."

"Glad I finally get to see the place."

She turned back quickly and jerked on the drawer until it came unstuck. "It's a wreck."

He walked across the room to the window, peeling away the dusty curtains and peering into the endless woods outside. Creeping vines had been crawling up the side of the cabin for quite some time. They twisted over the window like thin snakes looking for an opening, a way to worm inside. "Nothing a mop and a broom can't handle…or a six-man team led by Mr. Clean."

She slammed the drawer closed. "_Don't_. Not now."

He snapped back as if hit by a physical blow. "Okay, I'm sorry." Letting the curtain fall, he turned and walked to the bed.

"You think you can show up here and joke away the last six months?" she asked, not bothering to face him.

The first instinct in his gut was to answer with an equal tone, but he swallowed it back down with a bitter dose of pride. "No, I guess not. I was just hoping we could talk."

"What is there to talk about?"

"I thought I'd start by asking how you've been, but the answer seems pretty apparent. I don't suppose you'd ask the same question."

"Oh, I've got a question. What are you doing here?"

He thought to sit down, but instead merely stared at the sheets. "I'm here for you."

"Wow, that's a new one for you."

"Mia."

"Why?"

"Because I want to be here. Because I knew you needed help and I wanted to do whatever I could. I had to see you again. Thanks for letting me know, by the way."

Crossing her arms, she stepped away from the dresser. "Why the hell should I have to let you know anything?"

"You shouldn't. That's pretty damn clear by now."

"What is that supposed to mean? What, you think after all that happened I owe you something? Do you think that you're just going to show up here and all is forgiven?"

"I didn't come here for forgiveness."

"What then? Hear of a good bar up this way?"

"I was worried sick about you, Mia! I've been trying to get a hold of you for months."

She turned away from him then, surprised he'd let her jab go without a return. "Yeah, well, I've been busy."

"Busy my ass. You disappeared. Why didn't you return any of my calls? I thought I was garbage to you. I know I'm not your favorite person right now, but don't you think you could have at least answered your phone every once in a while? You could have let me know you were alive. You could have let me know what you were going through, Mia. I thought…I thought you were done with that stuff. I had to learn from your friends that you were _mainlining_. What the fuck kind of shit is that?"

"You're seriously making this about you? Really?"

He took a breath, trying to stay calm. "No, I'm not trying to make this about me. I'm just saying that I was ready to be there for _you_, and you were gone. There was all this shit I wanted to straighten out and I couldn't find you."

"Well, you found me now."

"I didn't want to find you like this. Do you know how—I just…I didn't want it like this."

"We don't always get what we want, do we? You didn't want to do that shit with me in the first place, and I didn't want you to walk out on me. I guess we both got screwed, huh?"

"That's all over, Mia. I'm not going to walk out on you. I'm better now. I want you to be better, too. I'll stay here as long as I have to and do whatever I can to help."

"Then go ahead and get comfy. We've got spare blankets and I'm sure you brought a bottle to curl up with."

"I'm _sorry_! I fucked up, okay? All this time, all I wanted to do was talk to you, to tell you how sorry I was. But that's not why I'm here now. I'm here because I care about you."

"Could've fooled me."

"I'm not fooling you now. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"I'll be fine."

"Withdrawal is dangerous, Mia. Trust me, I know. I know you've got David and your friends and maybe I really am the last person you want to see, but I want to be here while you…do whatever it is you have to do to get better."

He moved to her side while she stood, silent.

"Look, you were right. With all my hang-ups, I had no need to be in a relationship. And I know…I know it didn't seem like it at the time, but I loved you—so much—and I didn't want to let you go."

"Let me go? When did you ever have a hold of me, Rick? When were you around? Was it when I was in the hospital watching my mom die?"

"I wasn't there when I should have been. I was selfish, wrapped up in myself, and I got distant because I didn't want to make my problems your problems. You had so much going on, you shouldn't have had to take care of me, too, and I guess I thought that I would just be in the way."

"You wouldn't have been in the way. Space is good, I know. We all need it sometimes. Maybe I needed it then, but I also needed _you_, and you made me feel like I didn't exist. And on top of that, you were out every night getting drunk. What was I supposed to think? Was I supposed to stay up being worried about you and what you were going through?"

"No, I—"

"Was I supposed to be bawling over your problems?"

"No, I should have been there through yours. I'm not denying I was an ass. I made a mistake, and I wish I could make it up to you somehow. As badly as I wanted to see you again, it was really hard coming up here, knowing I'd have to face you after all this time."

"Well I sure hope I've put your fears to rest."

"Look, if you don't want me here, fine. I'll go. But tell me now because it'll be dark soon and it's a long way back."

He wanted an answer, but would have settled for anything, even a slap in the face. Instead, she just stood there, looking at the wall. He didn't know what she wanted, but it she obviously wasn't too hot on him staying. Knowing his nature the way she did, she would have said something. Of course, knowing her nature the way he did, he should have picked up on what she _wasn't _saying.

"Fuck it, then. I'm going. Call me when you get back to the world. Or don't, it's up to you."

It certainly hadn't gone the way he'd wanted. All visions of making up and finally taking her in his arms again were thrown off a cliff and dashed on the rocks below, but at least it was over with. He had said what he wanted to say and she was the one who'd turned him away. Perhaps the internal need to feel like the good guy made him all the more villainous, but he pardoned himself with the fact that he hadn't manipulated her—he'd just laid it all on the line.

He stopped at the edge of the room. "I still love you, Mia. And I _do_ want to make things right, whether you believe it or not."

He walked out, not bothering to close the door behind him.

XXXXX

The others were finishing up in the living room when Rick came back. They looked at him as though he was an amputee fresh out of the emergency room, a tragic victim of his own stupidity. David sat on the couch next to Natalie. When he saw Rick he stood, the tension gone from his face.

"Hey, man. I'm sorry about before. That was out of line."

Rick shook his head. "I don't think so. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe you guys should just give me a call when you get back to civilization." He started out, but Eric stopped him before he was halfway to the door.

"What? You're leaving? After all that? Come on."

"I don't belong here. What am I supposed to do? Mia can't stand to look at me…I'm just making things worse."

"That's not true," Olivia said. "She just needs some time. I really think you should stay."

David nodded in assent. "Yeah. We're in this together. All of us. You think I wasn't afraid to face her? After being gone for so long? We're going to get past this."

"That's different, David. You're family," Rick said.

"So are you. We're all family—_Mia's_ family."

Rick looked through the window and the quickly approaching darkness beyond. He would have to be crazy to try to make it back to the world by nightfall. Rumbling along those crooked dirt roads in the dark would be extremely dangerous, but he was almost willing to take that risk if he had to. Now, in the presence of old friends, he was glad to find that he had them on his side.

"Okay," he relented. "I'm in, I'm staying. Let's just not hang around here any longer than we have to. We get Mia clean, then we get her back home for some help."

"That's the plan, brother," David said.

A hollow thump interrupted their conversation. Startled, Eric quickly looked around the room. "What was that?"

Natalie stood and joined them. "Did it come from the bedroom?"

"No, it wasn't in here at all. It was_ underneath_ the floorboards."

David didn't seem disturbed. "There's a dirt cellar beneath the cabin. Animals tunnel in sometimes. I'll check it tomorrow."

"That didn't sound like an animal," Eric said, still unsettled.

"Take it easy, _Erica_," David teased, punching his friend in the arm. "We'll protect you."  
"Dude, are you still _on_ that? What grade are you in?"

"Teacher says if I behave, I won't have to repeat third again."

"Well," Olivia cut in, "I think I'll leave you boys alone and go see how Mia's feeling."

Rick stood back, a pleasant feeling of nostalgia filling his head while he watched David and Eric bicker with one another. For the first time in a long time, he felt close to home…close to _family_. He wanted to keep that feeling whole, wanted to protect what they had. He knew, however, that only time would tell.

XXXXX

_Can't believe we came all this way for a piece of ass. This chick better have beer flavored nipples is all I can say._

"I thought I told you to shut the hell up." Rick said, lighting a Winchester in the darkness outside.

_Oh, I forgot, you don't drink anymore. My mistake. All I know is I would have knocked that pretty boy on his ass if he'd eyeballed me like that, but I understand. Ya gotta make a good impression on family, right? Otherwise big, bad broseph won't let you in little sister's pants._

"Give it a rest, you broken record. Does everything you say have to be obnoxious?"

_I'm ten centuries old and stuck in an ugly-ass old relic, excuse me if manners aren't exactly a high priority. Hey, if nobody's going to entertain me, a god's gotta entertain himself, right? Speaking of entertainment, when are you gonna go in there and give it to that sweet little chick of yours? Goddamn, would I like to spread that open and go to town with a stick of butter and a bottle of maple syrup._

The vulgarity was so old Rick couldn't be bothered to get upset. If anything, the words put hot, lustful images in his head. He couldn't deny how badly he wanted to touch Mia again, how sorely he wanted to taste the salt on her skin, to feel her wrapped around him, wet and in spasm. As strange as his situation was, it almost felt like two old, familiar friends talking nasty shit over a smoke and a laugh. The fact that the voice was pretty much the only source of conversation he had anymore only added to his feelings of isolation.

_And that dark meat in there—Olivia—sweet as brown sugar, I bet. Imagine the fun you'd have if you could stack those two up and be the cream in the middle._

"Enough," Rick said, with force and a bit too loudly. He turned his head to make sure no one had heard him. "Knock it off, already. I'm trying to make things right here. In case you haven't noticed, I'm madly in love with this girl and I am _not_ going to let you fuck things up again."

_Aww, I'm so sawwy. Heh, what're you gonna do, Rick? Break up with me?_

"Are you going to make me? I don't give a shit what you are, I'll toss you down that goddamn well and ride out of here with her if you keep pushing it."

_ Hey! Hey! Whatcha getting' all serious for? I'm just messing around. You know I like to get a rise out of you, buddy. You're always wound up so tight, you gotta loosen up._

Rick took a deep, shaky breath. "Just…just take it easy, okay? I know this doesn't mean anything to an ancient ethereal entity like yourself, but this is serious shit. Everybody's in pain here and I know exactly what Mia's going through. So just back off."

Silence.

"Who are you talking to?"

He turned in surprise to find Mia standing in the light of the open doorway. Wrapped up in his own insanity, he hadn't heard her come out. Thinking quickly, he offered the best explanation he could think of. "Just kicking myself for being such an asshole again," he said.

She pulled the door shut behind her and started across the porch, each step groaning under her bare feet as if she bore the weight of the world on her shoulders. Cloaked in the shadows of the porch, she looked like a haggard spirit, a tortured fallen angel approaching him from the darkness of Hell. He had a hard enough time just believing she was there. He was almost certain their last exchange had been the final nail in the coffin, but there she was, standing beside him.

"You weren't being an asshole," she said. "I was. That's all I've been to you since you got here."

"You've got every right to be."

A shake of her head. "No, I don't. You came all the way up here and I'm still acting pissed at you over something that happened months ago. I'm being childish. I guess I can't help it when I'm around you."

He said nothing, afraid that any word could shatter the fragile peace between them.

She placed a hand on his arm. "I'm really happy you're here. I didn't know if I'd ever see you again."

"How could you think that? I swear I tried to find you, it's all I wanted. I should've never…"

"I don't want to talk about it, Rick. Not tonight. I'm so damn tired. I feel like I'm going nuts. It's starting."

"I know. I can see it."

"And it hasn't even gotten really bad. You know that, right?"

He nodded. "I know."

"I don't know what I'll do or say, and I…if I get mean, if I lash out at you, please don't hate me…I don't—"

"I know, Mia. I know. Hey, I told you I'd follow you into Hell, remember?"

She looked down, the memory bringing a flood of shame into her core. "Does that offer still stand?"

"Now and forever."

She looked at him as if she was trying to see inside…at whatever it was he had hidden within. An intense anger still burned inside, but just seeing him again, knowing he was there, it made her feel…hopeful. "Promise you'll stay with me until it's over."

"I'm not going anywhere, Mia."

"Cross your heart."

He took her hand and placed it on his chest. He drew an invisible X over her fingers. "I would rip it out and give it to you if I could."

A nearly imperceptible smile tugged at her lips. "You're such a dork. When did you become Mr. Dramatic? Come inside, I think it's going to be a long night."

"You go on. I've got to grab my pack."

After she went inside, Rick ventured out into the clearing to get his things. An icy breeze burst through the trees, stretching his skin tight with raised goosebumps. At once his feeling of comfort was gone, replaced by the sense of uneasiness that had vaguely invaded them all. He gazed around the tree line, taking in the never-ending darkness shrouding the forest. A childlike fear pervaded his thoughts—a fear of things lurking in the woods he knew couldn't possibly be real.

_Whatcha lookin' for, buddy? Afraid the Oogey Boogey Man's gonna run outta the woods and getcha?_

"Very funny," Rick said. "I just don't like this place."

_Hey, I don't blame you. You never know what could be lurkin' about out there. Zombies,vampires, liberals._

"They're not real. Not the liberals, the—you know what I mean."

_No more real than me, Rick? Face it, pal, you got to own up to one of two things. Either you're a fuckin' nutcase, or the things of nightmares really do exist. While I'm leaning toward you being a looney toon, that doesn't really explain me, does it? Though it sure would explain how much you enjoyed splatterin' that dope slinging motherfucker's face all over the—_

_ "Shut up!_" Rick snapped. Again, he glanced toward the cabin to make sure no one had heard him. "That was…that wasn't me. I just lost control."

_Deny it all you want, sport. I've seen inside your heart. I've played around in that blackness you call a soul. You and I are two of a kind. Do you really think she could understand? You think she could accept it? Sure, you love her enough to kill for her, but do you love her enough to show her the real you?_

"I love her enough to blow my own brains out before I'd let myself hurt her."

_Hehe, sure, but why go through all this pain? You don't have a fucking clue, do you? In a few decades she'll be just another menopausal bitch with a loose cooch and saggy tits. Why settle for that when you and I could have so much fun? The truth is, true loves come and go, Rick, but I'll always be a part of you. You need me just as much as I need you, you'll see that soon enough._

"What's your point?"

_My point is something wicked this way comes, and it ain't just yours truly. You wanna waste your time with junkie-girl, knock yourself out, but you'd do best to keep in spittin' distance._

"What do you think I'm doing?" Rick said, taking his pack from the motorcycle.

_Aww, I get to meet the family? Ricky boy, I'm touched. I call Mia's bed._

"Knock it off. The same rules apply. You start messing with my head in there—"

_Relax, killer. I'm just fuckin' with ya. I'll be on my best behavior, scout's honor._

"Why doesn't that comfort me?" Rick asked.

_I knew you were a smart kid_. _The real question is—will you do the same?_

Tired and irritated, Rick shut out the voice of the Other and returned to the cabin, taking one last look behind his back at the menacing dark, where the leaves whispered of secret things no human mind could comprehend, of things best left buried…deep in the ground.

XXXXX

They gathered for a late dinner, complete with meaningless small talk and side of awkward silence. David entertained with stories of his work in Chicago and old summers he and Mia spent at the cabin. They laughed over memories of old times and for a few moments, Rick and Mia, in their shared torment, were taken away from the pain of the present and comforted by the presence of their friends.

Rick and Olivia, the two most attuned to Mia's condition, watched closely and with worry as she poked lazily at the small serving of food on her plate. Whenever she made a move to urge Mia to eat more, Rick caught her eye and, with a shake of his head, told her everything she already knew. Though she didn't have much experience with severe addiction, she knew enough to see what was coming. _The more that goes down, the more that's going to come back up._

Sure enough, within a few hours Mia was in the bathroom, heaving with staggered, painful moans as her stomach cramped with enough force to make her back ache. By midnight she was crying and sweating and cursing everything under the moon. Eventually, she fell into a tepid, fitful sleep.

By midnight, they were all startled by the sound of her screams.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again everybody. Finally got chapter 5 ready, and for anybody who's been following closely, I'm so sorry for the wait. I got really hung up on this chapter and didn't quite know where to go with it. Normally, my chapters have always been a bit shorter and I hope everyone's staying interested. I'd like to spend less time on this because I've been forsaking my professional writing, but I'm just so hung up on this story right now and I really want to keep going. I've been a little blocked lately and I hope it doesn't show, but just know that I haven't forgotten you guys. Your kind words and encouragement constantly push me forward and make me challenge myself. Best wishes to you guys.**

Chapter 5

The peace of the cabin shattered as Mia thrashed around her parents' old bedroom in a panicked frenzy. Her flesh had gone so pale as to nearly glow in the faint candlelight and, in her sheer white nightgown, soaked with cold sweat, her pallid complexion could easily have been mistaken for that of a ghost. Her wails, however, carried all the torturous energy of a rabid banshee.

"Get them off! They're all over me!" she shrieked, frantically slapping all over her body. She scratched long red lines into her arms until Olivia subdued her hands by force, afraid that if Mia continued she would end up drawing blood.

"Mia, baby, there's nothing on you," Olivia told her. "You've got to calm down. You're going to hurt yourself."

"They're _all fucking over me!_ It feels like they're under my skin!" Mia persisted, attempting to twist out of her friend's grasp.

"It's just the withdrawal, sweetie. There's nothing on you, see? My god, you're freezing."

"Freezing? Are you _shitting_ me? It's burning up in here. Let me out, I can't stay here!"

"Honey, stop."

"_I can't stand it! I can't stand it!_" Mia screamed and burst into tears. "_I hate this fucking place! Let me out!_"

David appeared in the doorway, casting a long, distorted shadow across the floor. "Do you need help?" he asked Olivia.

"No, I think I've got her. Just get my bag. Mia, I'm going to give you a shot, okay? Something to help you sleep."

The girl's eyes went wide, filled with terror at the inconceivable thought. "No! I don't want to go to sleep. I can't…David! David, listen to me. There are things in my bed. They're in the walls. I can hear them. I've got to get out of here now! I can't take it anymore!"

If David felt any uncertainty, it didn't show. His face was drawn and his eyes were glassy and red, his lips set in an angry slant. "You need to relax. There's nothing in your bed. Let Olivia help you so you can get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

"What about the sounds? The scratching in the walls? I know you hear it too. They're everywhere. I could feel them all over me."

David's eyes hit the walls, scrolling over the warped boards and water stains, over each splinter and rust-crusted nail head. A moment of hesitation seized him and uncertainty clouded his chiseled face. Still, he didn't budge. "It's just a few mice, Mia. You know how old this place is."

"_Oh fuck you, asshole!_" Mia exploded. "You've never listened to me! Not to a single word I've ever said! Why the hell are you even here?"

David, averting his gaze, turned into the hallway. "I'll get your bag," he said, and was gone.

In the living room, Rick sat on the couch next to Eric with his face in his hands. He looked up at the sound of David's footsteps and watched his friend retrieve Olivia's duffel bag from behind the couch, his face looking tired and grim.

"Are you okay, baby?" Natalie asked. She sat on the loveseat, her legs drawn up and covered.

"Is _she_ okay?" Eric asked. David faintly shook his head and disappeared once again down the hall. Eric looked to Rick in helpless confusion.

"No, man," Rick told him, "she's pretty damn far from okay."

Eric ran his hands down his face. "Jesus. So this is it, huh? This is the real thing?"

"Yeah. I wish I could say this is the darkest part, but honestly, I just don't know. I just hope this is the end of it. I want us to take her out of these woods and never look back."

"I just can't believe you had it like that, too. Nobody should have to go through something like this alone. I just wish I had known. I wish you'd—"

"Don't worry about it," Rick said, not wanting to go down that road. "You couldn't have helped me."

Natalie sat forward. "How'd you do it?"

"I went somewhere where I didn't know anybody and locked myself in a motel room for a week. I drank myself blind—blacked out for almost two days. That was the last time I got drunk, too. Honestly, I thought about Mia. About how much I wanted to get clean and get back to her. By the time it was over, though, I didn't know if I could. The physical part gets better after a couple of days, but your head…it felt like I was drowning in wet cement. There was no light or color. I know that's coming for Mia, too, and it scares the shit out of me."

"Relax," Eric said. "We'll take it one thing at a time, and we'll be there for her then, too. We've just got to—" Another loud knock split a jagged line between his words, this time sounding much harder and much closer.

"_Shit!_" he yelped. "Did you see that?"

"What?" Rick said, looking around the room.

"The rug moved. Just now. Like there was something under it."

Rick looked at the old worn rug on the other side of the coffee table, just off center of the living room. Odd placing, he thought, but hardly eerie. It was a simple, rustic weave of concentric rings, light upon dark—nothing spooky or menacing about it. It sat flat and still now, under a watchful eye, but Rick didn't doubt his friend's assertion.

_"What the fuck is that noise!_" Mia's piercing scream echoed through the house.

Rick walked quickly down the hall to her room. The long, stainless shaft of Olivia's syringe caught the light as it retreated from the vein in Mia's arm. The girl looked as though she'd been battered around by a storm and carelessly tossed ashore. Rick cringed when he saw her, wet and shivering in her sheer white gown, head rolling listlessly back and forth.

"It's okay," David said, kneeling with Olivia at Mia's side. He'd been holding his sister's arm still during the injection. "She's just freaking out a little bit. She'll be okay."

Rick could see the drugs taking effect before his eyes. Mia's face slackened and her tense, itching body went calm and loose. Her foggy red eyes fixed on him as though he was the only person in the room. A strange feeling of guilt overtook him and he avoided her stare.

"Do you hear it, Rick?" she asked, her voice a dull croak as if she was half-asleep.

"I hear _something_," he said. "I think you guys should come out here for a minute."

"What's up?" David asked.

"Your goddamn cabin is creeping me out!" Eric shouted. "That's what's up, now get in here!"

David rose to his feet. "Mia needs to rest. Whatever this is, it can wait."

"I'm not staying in here alone again," Mia said. "If I go to sleep, I'm sleeping on the couch, now help me up."

Bitter but defeated, David knew better than to argue with his sister when she was healthy, let alone when she felt like shit, so he led her into the living room where they all formed a loose circle. David knew something was wrong when he saw Natalie. "What?" he said as she wrapped her arms around him.

"There's something under the floor, man," Eric said.

David cocked his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Something down there hit hard enough to shake the place and make the damn rug jump. Don't tell me you didn't hear it this time."

David pointed at the rug. "That covers the cellar door," he said, exhaustion clear in his voice. "It was probably just a raccoon. This cabin's been here a long time, okay? It's got some problems. Sometimes animals dig under the house. I know it's not the damn Hilton, but it's not like—"

Another resounding thump shocked them, louder than ever, and their circle tightened. Again, the center of the rug jerked as if alive or possessed of some otherworldly energy, and this time they all saw it.

"What the hell?" David said, brow knotted in consternation.

Eric shot an accusing finger at the bewitched mat. "_That_ was not a raccoon."

Without fear or hesitation, David, ever the leader, stepped away from the group and gripped the rug with his calloused, work-worn fist and pulled it aside, revealing the large square outline of the hinged cellar door. The latch was free and undone, and out from it spread a horrendous dark red stain, blooming dark streaks done in the narrow swirls of wet fingertips grasping for entry…or escape.

"Holy shit," Olivia said. "Is that blood?"

David swallowed a dry lump in his throat. "Maybe. It…I don't know."

Rick strode forward. He didn't notice Mia's hand instinctively jerk towards him when he moved—no one did. "What's down there?" he asked.

"Nothing," answered David. "It's basically just a pit. I mean, there's an old wooden workbench and some shelves, but we haven't kept anything down there in years. The damn thing floods when it rains hard."

Natalie gasped as a frightening thought struck her. "Do you think maybe whoever broke in is…"

"No way," David assured them. "We'd have known by now. Besides, how the hell would the rug have gotten back over it? Get a flashlight."

"Are you insane?" Mia asked, showing a jolt of energy even when weakened by the drugs in her system. "You're not actually going down there."

David retrieved the wrecking bar from where it leaned beside the front door. "Calm down. Everything's all right, we're just going to check it out."

"Everything's _not_ all right. Something is fucking _wrong_ here, David!"

"_Mia!_" David barked, his calm and collection faltering. They all froze at the sudden rise of his voice. Mia stepped back, incredulous. "Just sit down," he said. "Whatever it is, it'll run back to its tunnel or whatever and we can all get some sleep, okay? Rick, help me with the door."

They waited for Eric to get a flashlight and as David stood vanguard with the wrecking bar held tight, Rick gripped the latch and gave Mia a helpless look of empathy before he pulled, revealing the depths beneath the cabin.

XXXXX

The door rose with a groan as the blood seal cracked and crumbled away. The smell of dank earth and rotten eggs hit them like a staggering blow. The pungent odor was so fierce Rick nearly dropped the door back into place.

"Jesus!" Eric said, guarding his mouth with his free hand. "What the hell is that?"

David wasn't quite as fazed. "I told you, it floods sometimes. Sitting water under a house is bound to smell."

Mia covered her mouth and turned away, thankful there wasn't much in her stomach. "You guys are idiots," she said through her fingers. Olivia and Natalie wrinkled their noses but otherwise stayed back.

"That's not just water or mildew," Rick said. "Something's rotting down there."

"Probably," David said. "Here, give me the light." He took the flashlight from Eric and cast its beam into the darkness. Rick counted nine steps as the light swept over the old, weary looking boards. "It's not flooded right now. Let's take a look. Here, hold this." David held out the wrecking bar to Rick.

Rick shook his head. "No. Give me the flashlight. I'll go down first."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Be careful," David told him, handing off the light. "Those steps are old. They could be rotted."

Rick took a breath before starting down. The cruelest wave of the stench had passed, but the air was still humid and thick. He tested the steps one by one with unsure feet, hoping that he wouldn't go crashing down into the darkness and onto the waiting teeth of whatever could be down there as well.

"The stairs seem okay," he said near the bottom. "But I'd still watch it coming down."

He stepped onto dry, gritty soil. The dirt floor lent completeness to the rustic, creepy feel of the otherwise modern cabin. He could have been anywhere—another dimension or the dark side of the moon. For a moment, he was taken away and the world above didn't exist. There was just him and a single hanging bulb, floating alone in all that blackness.

"Well?" David's voice broke through the mental haze.

"How's the wiring down here?" Rick called up. "There's a light hanging from the ceiling."

"Why don't you try it and let us know, sparky," Eric said, still standing up top. "You know, I think I've seen this movie. Weird noises, dark basement."

"Let's hope it's not Cabin in the Woods 2: Electric Boogaloo," Rick said with a smirk and pulled the chain dangling just above his face. Soft, fuzzy yellow light pushed with all its might against the thick sea of darkness, revealing a chamber larger than expected, with walls of wooden slats stacked to the ceiling between rows of oozing earth. The shadows retreated to the corners, waiting for the flickering glow to once again die.

"Damn, I haven't been down here in a long time," David said as he reached the bottom of the steps with Eric at his back. He looked around, squinting in the faint yellow glow. "Everything looks okay. Did you see anything when you turned on the light?"

"No, nothing," replied Rick, "but it looks like we just missed Jason Voorhees."

"Huh?"

David followed Rick's gaze to an axe jutting from one of the support beams along the wall like a crooked branch, most likely planted by a solid swing to left field. David set the wrecking bar on an empty wooden crate and gripped the curved hickory handle. A few strong jerks set it free from its crease in the beam and, upon inspection, it was as David thought.

"Dad's old axe," he said, wiping the dust from the flat side of the blade. "It was in the shed last time I looked. Guess they didn't think to steal it."

"Or they weren't thieves. You said nothing was missing. Who knows why they brought it down here," Rick said.

Eric frowned. "It doesn't really matter. They weren't making that noise."

"Well," David said, glancing around, "whatever it was, it's gone now."

Rick swept the beam of the flashlight along the floor past David's shoes and up the wall behind him until finally settling on a wooden door beyond the stairs. "What's back there?"

David looked back. "That's the old workroom. I don't know if there's anything still in it. Dad used to go in there sometimes, but I think he was just smoking weed and jerking off."

"Hey, vintage porn," Eric said. "Let's check it out."

"You were scared shitless a minute ago."

"I was freaked out because something was down here. Even if it's gone, I still think we should check the place and make sure."

David, still in the grasp of bad memories, didn't bother to argue. He slid past Eric and opened the door. His voice, dampened to a tinny rasp by the surrounding earth, drifted from within. "Holy shit."

Rick stepped through the doorway and turned the flashlight onto the display. "I'm guessing this stuff isn't your dad's."

While the rest of the room was dusty and bare, a collection of oddities rested upon the large wooden workbench. The surface was littered with crushed soda cans, snack wrappers, and other assorted refuse. A dinner plate, most likely from the kitchen above, sat near the edge, its surface crusted with a dry coat of black mold and dead maggots. Whatever meal had once garnished the flatware was now unrecognizable, but still emitted an unpleasant odor just the same. The centerpieces of the spread were the most interesting to note—an outdated looking reel-to-reel audio recorder and a large rectangular shape of some sort, shiny black and wrapped in a criss-cross of grey barbed wire.

Rick's body went cold with prickling fear. The sight of the object took him back to the box that had started his own trouble. He knew now that such things were not to be messed with, no matter how enticing they might be to the perversion of curiosity. Perhaps, with enough thought, he would agree that the same could be said about matters of the heart.

"Sick," Eric said, grimacing at the plate of sludge and mold. He looked at David, a new gleam of enthusiasm present in his eyes. "You keepin' Leatherface down here, bro?"

"This isn't funny," David said, clearly not amused. "Somebody broke into my family's cabin. Who knows what the wacko was doing down here."

Eric gestured at the recorder and the other object. "Well we've got this thing, and…whatever this is. Let's find out."

An image exploded in Rick's head. David, hanging from the ceiling, entrails caressing his face as the falling blood from his veins soaked into the dirt below.

Olivia's voice dropped like a bomb. "Will you assholes hurry the hell up down there?"

"Yeah, we're done!" David called.

"I don't know if we should be messing around with this stuff," Rick warned, knowing fully well how silly he sounded.

Eric frowned. "Why? Whoever was down here obviously split. If they were in a big enough hurry to leave this stuff, I doubt they're coming back for it."

"He's right," David agreed. "Grab 'em and let's get back upstairs. I never liked it down here, anyway. I'll clean the rest of this shit up tomorrow."

"Whoa!" Eric said, reaching beneath the workbench. "Check this out." He lifted a shotgun with sawed-off twin barrels. Its blued metal shone dully in the overhead light. "There are shells for it, too."

"Goddamn it, Eric, be careful with that," David said, pushing the muzzle of the gun toward the floor as he picked up the recorder. "Come on. Rick, you got that other thing?"

Rick didn't answer as they walked by, leaving him alone in the room. He stared raptly and in silence at the object on the table. He ran his fingers down its face, over the coiled ropes of rust-spotted wire, and deduced that the wrapping material was black plastic, most likely a garbage bag. Whoever had previously owned it, whatever it was, clearly didn't want it to be opened.

_Just like the box,_ Rick thought.

_That's right, Ricky boy. Better be careful_, _or you and your friends could be the next ones to end up down here wrapped in barbed wire._

XXXXX

The group surveyed the strange collection, now assembled neatly on the coffee table. Rick had been surprised to see that Mia still clung to consciousness as he emerged from the cellar and even more surprised to see her breathe a sigh relief at his return. After the stressful events of the day, the thing he wanted most was to sit down beside her and take her sweaty hand in his own.

"I can't believe you found a gun," Olivia said. "Do you even know if it's loaded?"

Partially surprised that no one, not even David, had bothered to check, Rick snatched the double-barrel from the table, thumbing the latch and breaking it open. He upturned the barrels and two empty shells slid from their respective chambers into his palm. "It isn't," he said and set it back as Olivia looked on in surprise.

"Let's not go crazy over this, okay?" David said, wanting to avoid any further shock to Mia's system. "It's nothing. There's nobody here, and it looks like they haven't been in a while. And whatever it was bumping on the door is gone, too. So everything's cool."

"You shouldn't have touched anything from that basement," Mia said, her eyes fixed on the wire-wrapped object.

Eric picked it up and took it to the dining room table. "David, you got any cutters?"

"Yeah, there's a toolbox in the kitchen. Or, at least there was, if it's still there."

Olivia glared at them both. "Are you shitting me? You don't even know what that is."

"Yeah," Eric said, "that's the point of opening it."

"It's not a Christmas present," Rick said, walking to the table. "I still don't feel right about this."

"Relax, man," Eric said as David reappeared and handed him the wire-cutters.

One by one, he snipped away the steel strands and pulled them back. They wiggled in the air like wiry spider legs—the spiked appendages of a nightmarish arachnid. He then peeled away the garbage bag as he would a meat pack from the supermarket to reveal a book of dark tan leather joined in horrific patchwork.

"Guess you were wrong about the porn," Rick said.

"Yeah, but this is way better."

Natalie shivered at the sight of the book. "What was the guy doing down there, anyway? Voodoo or something?"

Eric shook his head. "Nah, it's not voodoo. This is…different. Maybe some kind of witchcraft. Or Satanism. What do you think, Rick?"

"Maybe it's an original copy of _The Shining_."

"Come on, man. I thought you were into this weird stuff."

"Not so much anymore," told him, not bothering to elaborate further.

"Well, I'm checking it out. How 'bout some coffee? Anybody?"

"I'll make some," Natalie offered.

David stopped her on the way to the kitchen. "It's getting late, babe."

"It's okay," she said. "It doesn't keep me up. Not that I'm worried about it." She pulled his head into a firm, lingering kiss.

"Shit," Eric said, flipping through the pages. "This is crazy."

"Whatever," Olivia said, her voice cold and flat. "I'm getting ready for bed."

She left down the hallway and for a moment, Rick thought David was going to follow her, but he simply turned and headed for the kitchen. "You still take coffee with your sugar and milk?" he asked Eric.

"Umm, yeah," Eric said, rising from the table, "but I'll get it myself."

Alone in the room with Mia, Rick tried to make himself look anywhere but her direction. He walked around the table and began looking through book. It was then that the terror once again began to climb along his vertebrae. It was filled with strange, awful images and ritualistic symbols, inked in sketchy, dark red lines. Grotesque drawings of hellish beasts and corpses in various states of decay covered every page, walled by lines of esoteric symbols he had never seen before, which was saying a lot. It was true, in another time, he would have found such a thing quite interesting and exciting…but now, after all he knew…

"I don't like this."

Startled, Rick looked up to find Mia standing next to him, looking down at an illustration of some otherworldly monstrosity, feeding a tendril of flesh into its mouth—flesh that was its own. The sheer proximity of her, the feel of warmth emanating from her skin, was almost too much. It mingled with the tension in his muscles and the ambivalence he felt toward the obscenity before him, creating a vulgar feeling of arousal within him. Another image flashed across his mind's eye, of Mia spread before him lengthwise across the table, the book open on her chest, rivulets of blood from its pages running around her breasts.

"What is that? Its tail?"

"I think they're intestines," he said, chasing the terrible vision from his head.

"It's eating its own guts?"

"Looks like it—like some kind of twisted Ouroboros."

"What?"

"Ouroboros is the snake eating its own tail. It's an ancient symbol for eternity and the endless cycle of life and death."

"Well looking at it brings up an endless cycle of puking. Who do you think wrote this thing, anyway?"

"I don't know, but it spooks the hell out of me."

"I thought you loved this kind of stuff."

"Normally I do, but…not today I guess. I've never seen most of these glyphs before. It's not Egyptian. Could be Sumerian, but it would have to be really old. Older than the stuff I read at Miskatonic."

Mia stared at him as if looking far back, no sign of hostility in her eyes. "I've missed hearing you talk nerdy. It seems like it's been so long."

"Yeah," Rick nodded, swallowing hard. "I've missed talking with you."

The moment between them, stretched taught like a circus highwire, was broken by Eric as he came back from the kitchen, coffee in hand. "I knew you couldn't resist," he said, walking to the couch. "Creepy stuff, huh?"

"Yeah," Rick said. "I don't know what to make of it."

"Me either, except that whoever wrote it was probably a fan of Ted Bundy. If there's anything half as creepy on this recorder, we'll have one hell of a party on our hands."

"Don't mess with that thing tonight. It's been a long day, everybody's tired. Just give it a rest till tomorrow."

"I'm just going to listen for a minute, okay? Besides, I know you want to know what's on it, too. Don't even try to deny it. Sixty seconds, promise."

The recorder, marked Panasonic on its face, looked old enough to be an antique, but with a bit of manipulation of the knobs and levers, the twin reels spun to slow life. A hiss of static burst from the speakers, followed by dry silence.

"You're wasting your time," Rick said, making one last attempt to dissuade Eric from his endeavor. "There's nothing on that thing but snow. Shut it off and let's get some sleep."

Apparently conceding, Eric pawed his beard with disappointment. His finger was on the main power switch when a commanding baritone voice emerged from beneath the scratches and pops of the worn audio tape.

_"—in the rear chamber of the…"—crackle—"…Naturom Demonto. The Book of the Dead."_

_ Static._

"Jackpot," Eric said, eyes beaming.

Olivia stepped out of the hallway in her night gear, a loose-fitting jersey and cotton shorts. It was undeniable that the hand of God or nature had put her together well…very well…and the ensemble only served to accentuate that enticing fact. "What are you guys doing in here?"

_Hiss. Pop_. _"…inked…blood."_

As the tape rolled on, David and Natalie likewise returned to the living room. Their cheeks were flushed hot pink and a thin gloss of perspiration marked David's hairline. Upon entry, his eyes brushed over Olivia's lower half before settling on the recorder.

_ "Through recitation of the books passages, the dead are given license to possess the living."_

"That's it," Mia said suddenly, clearly agitated, "turn this shit off."

Eric smirked, an uncharacteristic shine to his eyes—a feeling inside of him of inexplicable glee at the discomfort he was causing. "Come on, is this Lovecraft stuff really freaking you out? I just want to hear a little bit more." He reached out to fast-forward the reels, but the lever seemed to be jammed and wouldn't budge.

_"Kunda…"_

"Hey," Rick said, "enough is enough, okay? Nobody needs to hear this right now."

The tape skipped and the pitch suddenly became deeper, drawn out and guttural. _"Astraaatttaaaaa…"_ The alien word stretched from the speakers in an eerie drawl, suddenly louder than before.

"Hey!" David suddenly barked, kicking the table.

"What!" Eric snapped in anger. "The fucking levers are stuck."

"_MoonnnttttOOOSSSSEEEEE_…" the tape droned on, growing to an uncomfortable decibel.

"Eric!" Olivia shouted over the mounting volume. "It's not funny. Turn it off!"

"I'm trying!" He flipped the switch again to no avail. The audio went on in its scratchy, rasping wail, burrowing into their brains with all the precision of a rusty drill bit.

Rick shook his head. "Something's wrong. Take out the tape."

Eric started to protest. "But—"

_"AAAAMMMMAAAAANNTTTTOOOOSSSSSS…"_

_ Uh oh, I don't like the sound of this, Rick. Better stop it or things are gonna get messy._

"Rip out the goddamn tape!" Rick shouted as Mia covered her ears and screamed.

"Fuck!" David roared. He lunged forward in one stride and grabbed the recorder off the table.

"_KAAAAAANNNDAAAAOOOUUHHH..."_

He hurled the recorder at the ground with all of his might. It impacted the floorboards with the sound of a gunshot and bounced a seven foot leap across the room. One of the reels flew into the air, a ribbon of tape flapping behind like a shiny tail. It landed near the dining table as the recorder came to rest against the wall.

Outside the cabin, the wind died to a whisper, not unlike the last rasping death-rattles of the soon-to-be deceased. The swollen storm clouds overhead, bloated with unspilt rain, slowed to almost complete stillness. Quiet befell the static chanting of the night birds and bats and the chittering of the forest creatures. The silence was perfect. Then, all at once, a final atomic thunderclap tore the pregnant belly of the sky asunder and the great black clouds unleashed their torrent upon the world below.

"Mia? Are you okay?" Rick said, rushing to help the frightened girl to her feet where she had fallen when the storm broke.

"Don't touch her!" Olivia barked, falling to her knees beside Mia. "She could be in shock for all you know."

"Fine, I'm sorry, but we need to get her up and out of here right now."

David ran a hand down his haggard face. "Christ, man, don't start this again."

Rick couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you serious? After all that's happened just tonight? I'm telling you this place is fucked."

"He's right, baby," Natalie agreed. "This place is really creeping me out. Can't we just get out of here?"

David felt everything falling apart—the reunion with his friends, the weekend escape with his girlfriend, and most importantly, the intervention for his sister. Frustrated and scared, he scrabbled to hold the pieces together. "No way. Mia's not going anywhere tonight, just look at her. I know you guys don't like it here, but even if she was okay to leave, it would be a really bad idea to try to get out of here in the middle of the night, it's just too dangerous in the dark. And do you hear that out there? It would be suicide in heavy rain like that."

Eric, quiet now, was examining the recorder that he had retrieved from the floor.

"So what do we do then?" Rick asked.

"We stick with the plan," David told him. "You keep your shit together—_everybody_ keep their shit together—and we can get through this. Don't forget why we're here. This might be Mia's last chance." He looked at Olivia. "How is she?"

Olivia had her fingers at the girl's jawline. "She just passed out. Pulse is stable and her breath is even. I think she just seriously needs some rest. Can you get her back into the bedroom?"

"Yeah," David said. He bent down and scooped Mia's light frame from the floor as if she was made of straw. "All right, I want everybody to settle down and get some sleep. Eric, stop messing with that fucking thing. I am officially done with this night."

Rick's heartbeat was anything but settled. "What about the storm?"

"What about it?"

"If it doesn't let up. If the riverbed floods. What then?"

"We just hope it eases up by morning. That's all we can do. Don't worry, we've been through some major rains up here and that river's never flooded so bad we couldn't get across. Get some sleep, Rick."

David took Mia down the hall with Olivia in tow. Natalie, awkwardly beautiful yet shy when left on her own, cast a sympathetic glance Rick's way. "I think it's really sweet, how you are with Mia. For you to come all this way for her even after what you guys have been through…that's what every girl wants."

"Thanks," he said, not knowing what else to say.

"Goodnight Rick," she said and disappeared down the hallway, into the other bedroom. She would be sleeping with David in his and Mia's old bedroom while Olivia stayed with Mia in the other. That left Rick and Eric to rock paper scissors for the couch.

Rick turned to find his scrawny, scraggly friend bent over the recorder at the table, carefully winding the stray reel back into place. "You're not going to listen to that again, are you?"

Eric shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, Rick. I won't do that again."

"It's okay. Things are just so messed up right now."

"This thing's actually in remarkably good shape. I think it'll still work. Guess they just don't make 'em like they used to, huh?"

"Guess not."

"You want the couch? My back's a little twitchy, but I'm okay with a sleeping bag."

"No, that's okay. You take it. I'm not sleeping well either way."

"Hang tough, man." Eric slapped him on the back and stretched out.

"It's not me I'm worried about."

Rick killed the light over the table and rolled out one of the sleeping bags Eric had brought. On the ground, he watched the lightning blast over the walls of the cabin in a horror show of writhing shadows. Thoughts raced through his mind, and try as he might, he couldn't block out the terrible feelings that rode piggyback.

_I don't know what that was, Rick, but I don't like it. Screwy words like that are used in nasty joo joo, buddy, nasty joo joo, and I've got a feeling you just fucked up real bad._

_ Yeah_, Rick thought. _I've got that feeling, too._


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey again, everybody. Sorry for the long wait. I originally planned to be deeper into the story by now and for more to happen in this chapter, but I've been having a bit of a rough time getting it down. I decided it was time to post what I had and keep moving forward, so I really hope you guys are excited to see that things are starting to get crazy. As always, the comments make my day and keep me motivated and I can't thank you all enough. Special shout-outs this chapter to Springborn, Ahliz, Laurie Jupiter, N the Zombie Girl, and anyone else who favorite or followed. I can't tell you how awesome you guys are.**

Chapter 6

Raindrops from the tempest sky fell thick and thin in untold legions upon the forest spires. Rolling from branch to branch, they bombed the thirsty earth below through the hours of the night, beating upon the cabin roof—an interminable barrage of static on a channel that could not be changed or turned off.

The sleepers, sheltered though they were from the _sturm_ and _drang_, trembled and clenched in restive slumber, troubled by the weight of the night that pulled in around them, fluttering like a labored heartbeat within the cavernous cavity of some unknown creature.

_Through the woods by blackest speed to a clearing within a crop of stunted, skeletal trees, overgrown with brittle vines and teeming fungus, where the sallow flesh of fingers not long dead wiggled in the dirt, tilling the soil of shallow graves. The smiles of the wretched, deformed and framed by wicked little teeth, split and oozed the rancid bile of ancient evil. A yawning mound of earth, wet and soft, stretched toward the sky like a gravid belly. In the light of the flashing sky it ripped open with a wailing shriek of the most detestable birth…spilling forth the contents of Hell._

XXXXX

Despite the perturbing events of the previous night, by morning they were all still alive and packaged whole, save for a few small bits of precious sanity knocked loose by the chilling recording.

Rick, awakening first from a fragile sleep of troubled dreams, started a pot of coffee for the rest of them. The silence of the early morning against the stark and steady backdrop of falling rain impressed upon him the allure of living away from vertically stacked civilization. Though he would always miss the groves of academia and hubs of wireless technology in the midst of which he'd grown, he couldn't deny how nice it was to be so far out, away from the smoke of the streets, from sewer grates and sirens and seven dollar lattes from Starbucks and garish full window sale signs. Separate from kiosks, cell phone stores and wi-fi cafes. Out here there was none of that. Out here, there was only dead air.

Once upon a time, he could have imagined living in such a place with Mia, escaping to the rural countryside with each other to breathe away from the toxic, trickling advance of the modern world, perhaps he to work on a novel and she a painting or sculpture. Perhaps there they would sit and watch the sunset, wedding bands tinkling like chimes in their joined hands? Back then he could see it…but now?

Now she was sick, heaving in the toilet down the hall as he pulled out packaged items for breakfast. Could she take another day? Could they all? Rick didn't want to find out, but the morning had inspired a somewhat renewed sense of hope. He knew the risk they ran taking her out of the woods in a frenzy, if the need still ran hot and fast in her veins. She'd bolt like a snake into hiding and the next time they'd see her would be in a stainless cooling unit at the county morgue. Though his mind, and something deeper, knew with certainty that they needed to get out of those woods, his heart would do almost anything to avoid that hurt.

Olivia, groggy and exhausted from tending to Mia through the night, entered the kitchen and cast a look of surprise at Rick when she saw him pouring coffee.

"Morning," he said, handing her a mug.

"Morning. You're up early."

"I didn't sleep well."

"Yeah, it was a…rough night."

Leaning against the center island, Rick looked out the window over the sink into the murky forest that had begun to look like wet marshlands. "The rain was kind of nice, once it let up a little."

Olivia opened the refrigerator and pulled cream, eggs, and butter. "I think it helped Mia, the sound of it. I've never slept well during storms."

Rick, with characteristic cynicism, regarded that at least conversation between them was the same as it had always been—wooden, but civil. They danced around the touchy subjects with as much clumsy grace as they moved about the kitchen, careful to stay out of one another's way. An early nerd, Rick was awkward by nature and knew a homecoming queen when he saw one. Though far too different to truly trust one another, they'd always gotten along fine, but he knew that ever since the drug business, Olivia had a problem with him.

"Listen," she said, "are you going to freak out again like you did last night?"

"I didn't freak out."

"Yes, you did," David said from the doorway. It didn't look as though the night's rest had helped him much. "It's okay, though. We all did, a little. It wasn't a good day for anybody. What we want to know is if you're cool now?"

Rick nodded. "I'm cool, but nothing's changed. No matter what you say, you can't convince me that Mia should be up here in her condition. _But_," he looked at Olivia, "I trust you. _All_ of you. You can't argue with what happened last night, though. We found some messed up shit in that basement. I know you're worried about Mia—I am, too—but right now I'm worried about what happened here."

"I know," David said to console his friend, "but breaking in is the worst thing they did. Nothing is missing, and nobody's been in here for a while. When this is over I'll go to the nearest Sheriff's station and let them know all about it. Until then, let's do what we came here to do, okay?"

Dull silence invaded the kitchen, heavy as a stone and twice as hard. Rick felt there was something more he needed to say, _anything_ that would make sense—that would make them _see_—but he couldn't see clearly himself, and so the subject dropped into the nether and Rick brushed past David and left the kitchen.

In the living room he found Mia alone in the corner, rummaging through his pack. "What are you doing?" he said in a quick panic.

Startled, she turned bloodshot, wild eyes to him. "Nothing," she said, her throat tight. "I just…I was looking for some smokes."

_What a lying little bitch!_ the voice laughed in Rick's head. _She's looking for dope and you know it. Hot little junky's got an itch and she thought you still had the shit._

Disregarding the voice, Rick rushed forward to stop her. "Mia, don't!"

"I'm sorry," she stuttered, "I just—hey, what's—"

She was gripping a wadded black sweater when he reached down and took her hand in hers. The first touch between them was electric, charged by the unseen energy in the air. Her eyes fixed on his in a hateful, loving death grip that held him without sway as he pulled her hand from the pack.

"There's nothing in there," he said.

"Then why'd you stop me?"

He thought quickly. "Maybe I was just finally making a move."

Her eyes narrowed but did not falter. "You're not that brave…or stupid."

Suddenly aware of heat, though her flesh was still clammy and cold, he let her hand fall and backed away. The distance was painful, but necessary. He felt that if he stayed close and stared into her eyes much longer, he would wither and crackle to a dry husk in her proximity. "Sorry."

She stepped forward, closing the space he'd created. "Rick, why did you drop out of school? I want the truth. I think I deserve that much."

He tried to look away, but the pull of her gaze was nearly too strong. "It's complicated."

"It's not complicated. You either tell me or you don't, and if you don't, you're an asshole."

"I'm an asshole if I do."

"Then be one and fucking _tell_ me!"

"I got kicked out, okay?"

The admission forced a rattled breath from her chest. "What? Why? Was it…was it me? The drugs? What?"

"It's not worth getting into. There was a problem with the library. I made some mistakes. That's all."

With a single, bitter thought hurtled through time, her eyes widened. "Oh my God. That box. That thing! I knew you were acting weird about it. You said you took it back. You said you took all that stuff back!"

"I did. I mean, I tried."

"What does that mean?" she asked, confused. "Did you steal that stuff? Is that why you really didn't go back to school?"

"I tried to fix it, but they knew the box had been opened, Mia. Tampering with school property is grounds for expulsion, especially stuff like that. Felix tried to cover for me, but I couldn't let him get in trouble, too. That's all there is to it."

She looked sick. The memories of the fateful days when it had all unraveled crashed upon her in a heavy wave. "You lost your scholarship because of me?" She thrust the mask into his chest and fled down the hall.

"It's not like that! Mia!" He tried to call after her to no avail. Their conversation, brutal and short, ended with the punctuation of a single slamming door.

XXXXX

After breakfast, they thoughtfully avoided one another for the morning's majority.

Eric, to the dismay of the group, busied himself with mending the recorder and pouring once more through the hideous pages of the book. The hours passed painfully into the afternoon and onward. By early evening the rain had climbed once again from a soothing hiss to a static drone. Mia's pain had swollen to a crescendo. Stressed and raw from the constant ache, she feared she might emit another rage-induced tirade at her friends. Without warning, she headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Olivia asked.

"For a fucking walk."

Rick started after her, but was stopped by David's words.

"Let her go, man."

He simply stood by the window, watching as Mia walked in circles in front of the cabin, around and around in the wet and the cold. Soon, the cabin filled with the aroma of cooked meat and the sharp tinkling of flatware as they sat the table for dinner. Natalie had prepared a pot roast, but the thought of food brought a sick ache to Rick's stomach. What he wanted was a drink.

_What's happening? _he thought. This time, the voice did not butt in.

"I know you don't like this," David said to Rick, "but thanks for sticking around and supporting us. Trust me, when this is over, I think we'll all see this was the best thing to do."

Rick glanced up but said nothing.

"Don't look at me that way. You think this doesn't hurt me?"

"I know it does," Rick replied. He didn't want to fight. "We all love Mia. I know nobody wants to be here. You're a great friend and a great brother." Rick saw the smile bloom on David's face, and hated to have to take it away so quickly. He opened the front door and said, "But I still think this is a bad idea and I hope Mia doesn't suffer any more for it."

He left them in silence and pulled the door shut behind him.

XXXXX

He stood on the front porch and watched her trudge around in the rain, relieved to be out of the sweltering stuffiness inside. Even outside the air was heavy and everything felt slick and grimy to the touch, as if the rain was oil. He didn't know if Mia saw him come out—if she could see anything through the fog of withdrawal—but he knew that she felt him there.

It was a special thing they shared—a closeness—and he felt that closeness drawing them together again after so long. Even through the sickness and the drugs and the anger, he felt a sense of peace seeing her again that he hadn't felt in a long time. It was a part of why he felt so rotten physically. A part of him had always believed that they had some deep link or empathic connection, and now he was sharing in the pain of her addiction.

Shivering in the rain, Mia felt it as well. Sneaking glances at him on the porch, she could tell when he was in pain, when the cramps racked his stomach the way they racked her own. As much as she would have denied it, she felt relieved that he was there. His presence softened the agony, even as much as she hated to admit it.

She wanted to scream at him and run into his arms and hold him close. She wanted to pound her fists against him until they were sore. She wanted to bite him and kiss him at the same time, to draw blood just to know that he was real, that he was there, that he was made of flesh and blood that she could feel and taste and touch. She wanted to cuss into his face and let him know how much she hated him for leaving her alone.

_"I love you, you fucking bastard!_ _I love you! Why did you go?_"

The worst part was that she felt like she couldn't be mad, that she didn't have the right. She hated herself most of all for hooking him on the junk with her, not content to wriggle on the line all by herself. She needed his heart beating erratically next to hers. She needed to share a vein.

He stepped down off the porch and stood behind her. He watched the rain beat down on her hair and run between the sharp ridges of her shoulder blades. He felt the urge to kneel down and put his head against her back. The ragged rise and fall of her ribcage wasn't enough. He needed to feel her breathing.

"Mind if I stand in the rain with you?" he asked.

"Be my guest."

"Maybe if we're lucky we'll catch pneumonia."

"Yeah, that would give our resident nurse something to do."

"They're trying, Mia."

"Fuck them. Don't defend their shit. They didn't even want you here."

He glanced back at the cabin, hoping nobody inside could hear their conversation through the rain. "That's not true."

"You know when Olivia found out I was using the first time she thought it was you? Can you believe that? She thought you got me on it, and when I told her the truth, she thought you were the one enabling me because you got on it, too. She thought you were bad for me…you were the only thing holding me together."

The words felt like she'd stabbed him with something hot and sharp and broke it off in his chest. He was trying so hard to get over the past, and he couldn't bear to be reminded of how he'd left when she needed him the most. What the others thought of him meant nothing in that moment, but the reminder of his betrayal was agonizing.  
"Mia, I didn't know—"

"And then after you left, they tried to convince me that it was for the best. That it was a blessing in disguise, a chance for a clean start."

"Maybe—"

"Don't!" She spun on him with fire in her eyes. "Don't you dare! _They_ believed that. I never did. They didn't know any better, but you do! I know you don't really believe it. You say you do, but that's because you're full of shit! You can't believe it. You're not that big of a moron!"

"All right," he said, "I get it."

She went back to walking her circle. "So don't stand up for them. I know they're trying to help me, and I'm thankful, I really am, but they don't know. They don't fucking know."

They were both quiet until Mia's feet shuffled to a stop once again. She brushed the wet hair from her eyes and registered the look of hurt on his face. She knew instinctively what he was thinking.

"It's not your fault, you know? I know I've been a bitch, but I don't blame you. You wanted to leave. You had shit to deal with. I get that. You had every right to do what you needed to do."

"I still think I did the wrong thing."

"But you're not the reason I…I'm trying to tell you it's not your fault I got so fucked up."

"Goddamn it, Mia. It doesn't matter. I thought you were in the clear, but I wasn't. I was drinking so much I was blacking out and waking up with shit broken all over my apartment and I was afraid I was going to hurt you some night. That's why I left, but I was wrong."

"But you're better and I'm not. It's good that you left."

"No, it's not. I realized that when I couldn't get in touch with you. If I could go back I would have chucked the damn bottle and stayed right there with you."

"And you'd have ended up right back on that shit with me."

"Maybe, but we'd be sick together. We'd be dealing with it and getting over it again together. That's why I need to know where I stand with you. I'm here until you get better, there's nothing you can do about that, but I…I need to know if you _really_ hate me."

Her shoulders slumped in disappointment, and she looked at him with pity, as if he just didn't get it. "I don't hate you. I never hated you. I was mad at you for leaving, but I was furious because I let you. I wanted you around but I…I mean, I didn't say anything." She looked at the ground. "Why didn't I say anything?"

"You know I've asked myself the same question over and over again for months? Through all the bullshit, we were both so stubborn we couldn't look one another in the face and say what we felt? I couldn't grab you and say, 'Mia, I'm fucked up so bad right now, and I don't want to ruin your life but I want to stay with you so please just put up with my shit!'"

"And I couldn't grab you and say, 'I'm fucked up, too, so please don't leave because I want you here.'"

He looked into her eyes clearly for the first time. "Why couldn't we just do that?"

"Because we're stupid. _I'm_ stupid. I'm so sorry. This whole thing, all this shit, it's all my fault."

"No," he protested.

"I started snorting that shit…and I got you to do it, too, and here I've been trying to make you feel worthless. You should run like hell. I just…I'm sorry."

"You didn't force me to do anything, Mia. I made the choice. I've tortured myself enough for both of us, and so have you. Be mad at me all you want, but don't push me away because you're mad at yourself. That's what I did, and it was a mistake. I took off because I didn't want to drag you down, but I…I shouldn't have worried about that. That's what we do, Mia. We drag each other down, then we help each other back up. We're so fucked up we can barely exist on our own, but if that's the way it has to be, I'd rather be fucked up with you. That's why I started that stuff with you instead of knocking it out of your fucking hand. If you had to be in Hell, I wanted to be there too, roasting over the same open fire. You and me."

She shook her head in staunch defiance. There was something still between them he couldn't see. It was something she never wanted him to know, but now, in order to mend, she had to reveal the secret of that terrible time. "You don't understand."

"Then help me."

"The guy I got it from," she swallowed the most awful dryness in her throat, "I was fucking him behind your back…while we were…I don't know what we were. It was when I didn't have any money. He was giving me fixes."

The rain dripped from his lowered head. "I know."

She looked up in dazed surprise. "What?"

"I came to see you once when I was supposed to be in class. I saw you let him in…I saw him when he left. I just…knew."

"So…all that time…you just never said anything?"

"I didn't know what to say. What do you think would have happened? I didn't know how to confront you about it and I didn't want to lose you. So I just…let it happen. But that's not why I left, Mia, I promise."

Closing her eyes tight, she gripped her wet hair in frustration. "I'm so fucking stupid. He was murdered. I never told you that, but I was just freaking out about where I was going to get it next. What if the psycho that killed him had followed him to my apartment?"

_Yeah, Rick? What about that? You gonna let her in on that little nugget of truth? Imagine, if she could have seen the fun we had stompin' that fucker's face open._

Rick shook his head to clear the voice and the images that threatened to strangle him. "I don't care," he sputtered. "It's over. I just want to leave all of that behind for good."

"Goddamn it, Rick. Why would you come up here? After all that?"

"It's doesn't matter. Maybe neither of us deserves anything good. Maybe all we deserve is pain and disappointment, but I don't care. The only thing I care about right now is you getting better."

_Well, well, isn't this a pretty fucking picture._

A massive wave of thunder cracked the sky and beat down upon them.

"Oh God," she said, suddenly doubling over in pain. Mingled drops of tears and spittle flew into the rain as she fell to her knees, choking.

"Jesus." He put a hand on her shoulder. "For real, Mia, are you okay? I'm scared. You shouldn't be here."

Raising her gaze to the sky, she marveled at how disgustingly frightening the place had become. There was nothing good left for her there. Memories of summers long since passed had been replaced with images of her mother, skeletal and dying, resigned to a hospital bed. "Please God," Mia entreated softly to the thundering heavens above, "give me a break."

He knelt down. "You don't get a break, not this time. You had your fun, you made the bad choices, but now that's all over. It's time to get serious. This time the only way is the hard way."

She let the rain wash onto her lips and spit again, trying to clear the acidic taste from her mouth. "You don't…"

"What? I don't know what it's like? You know I do, and I know you're going to come through it. You're the strongest person I've ever met."

Her body went stiff in surprise as she felt him fall down behind her. His legs squished into the mud and needles between her own. A warmth better than any drug filled her stomach when he wrapped his arms around her and folded himself over her frame. Her back melted into his chest as he brought his cheek to hers, the steam of their breath becoming one in the cold air.

"I would go through every second of it again to bring you through this," he said. "I need you to know that."

She closed her eyes and gripped his forearms with shaking hands as if he was her only anchor, keeping her from drifting off into delirium. "I do. I know. Just don't leave again. Just don't leave…"

"I'm not going anywhere. When everything fell to shit, you're the only thing I had faith in, and you still are."

For the first time in a long while she smiled a fragile but genuine smile before her jaw clenched as another wave of torment shook her body. "I'm going to beat this," she said through gritted teeth. "_We're_ going to beat this, and then we're getting out of these fucking woods."

He helped her to her feet and reached up as if he was about to touch a house of cards and placed his hands on her smooth shoulders. "Mia, I love you. It scares the hell out of me to say that, but this time I'm going to do it anyway. I love you more than I've ever loved anything, and I will do whatever it takes to help you through this. I don't give a shit what your brother thinks, or our friends. If you say you want out of here, we will leave right now."

"I love you," she said and moved into his arms.

They gripped each other close in the falling rain. For the first time, Mia felt a feather-tap of happiness against her heart. She felt, though hesitantly, that everything might end up okay, but when she looked up next, her soul froze in terror.

XXXXX

Within the cabin, Eric retreated to the silence of the master bedroom, where he sat at a small wooden table against the wall. The book in all of its hideous glory was open in front of him, enthralling him with gore-stained pages of infernal art.

The more he studied the work, the more the incantations became clear. Even without a code or cryptex, in his euphoric study it seemed as though the queer symbols and glyphs were deciphering themselves in his head. Ritual…blood…sacrifice. The book was a captured image of untold pain in a place on par with the worst descriptions of Hell. It was showing him the gateway.

Lost in a dark zone of thought, horrid images flashed inside his skull. He imagined, as though watching a vivid horror film, that he walked into the kitchen and slashed David's throat open with a knife, grinning and laughing as his best friend's blood poured over him. Then the women—they would be his to do with as he wished, to fulfill every perverted desire for the grotesque amusement of the hidden beings watching from the shadows. Natalie would cry as he made Olivia scream for hours on end.

Eric gagged and came back to himself, frightened at the violent thoughts invading his mind. He felt a sense of utter revulsion wash over. He would never even _consider_ hurting anyone like that, not in a million years.

But the book. It was so interesting, so crazy. He couldn't resist the pull of such raw perversion. Running his hand along the face, he knew instinctively what he would not dare to say. Flesh…it was bound in flesh.

_Just a few more pages_, he thought, _then I'll put it away_.

He turned the page, and the next image struck his heart with such terror, he clutched the book closed and threw it onto the bed. Sweating, he sat back in the chair and breathed deeply. In and out.

XXXXX

She would have screamed had she not been enveloped in his arms, but he knew something was wrong when her muscles seized. It wasn't the withdrawal, it was something else, something awful. The pain of skin clenched tight between her fingers sent fire up his arms.

He turned and saw the pale figure with long, black hair, standing in the woods on the crest of a small hill at the edge of the clearing. Even though its face was obscured by obsidian strands, the weight of its gaze was like a physical pressure bearing down on them. Mia's tremors progressed into full on shaking as she broke down into sobs, obviously fearing she was much sicker than she thought, but he knew it was something worse than that. Something was terribly wrong. Lightning flashed blue-white, forcing his eyes closed. When he opened them, the phantom shape was gone.

"I think I'm in trouble," Mia croaked, pleading to him with her eyes. "I'm…I'm seeing things, awful things. I think I'm losing my mind."

Rick hesitated only a moment. _Fuck it_, he thought, _after all we've been through, I'll be damned if I'm going to hold back on her now_.

"No," he told her. "I saw it, too."

The shock of his words forced her shivers to lessen. Slowly, her eyes, full of uncertainty, rose to meet his. "What…what does that mean?"

He shook his head. "I don't know."

"Should we tell the others?"

"I…I don't think that would be a good idea. I think they're pretty set on trying to keep you here."

"What do you think?"

"I want you to get better. I need you to kick this thing, but…I don't think we should be here. Something's not right. I know you feel it too. I just don't know what to do."

"Then we'll leave," she said, digging her fingers into his arms again. "We'll just go."

"Mia."

"No bullshit, okay? No games. I don't know what's going on. Maybe I'm going crazy, or…or maybe I'm just sick, but I'm not even thinking about getting high right now. I just don't want to be here. Please, Rick. Please, just take me home."

If ever there was a time for him to be there for her, he knew this was it. The conflict came from not knowing what he should do. Would caring mean taking her away from that terrible place or making her stay? One thing was for sure, he wasn't going to leave her side, he wasn't going to let her get near the drugs ever again, and he was damned if he was going to let her die crazy and sick in the middle of the woods.

"Okay," he said. "We'll go."


End file.
